


Of Late Nights And Spotlights

by unluckitty



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Orchestra, Drama, Ended up more gen compliant than i intended, Enemies to Lovers, Flautist!Mark, Fluff, Frenemies, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) is a Panicked Gay, Trumpeter!Haechan, Trumpeter!Jeno, pianist!chenle, violinist!renjun, yes both apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25835683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unluckitty/pseuds/unluckitty
Summary: In fact, one of the first things Jeno had expected to happen this semester, was to probably become the orchestra's first chair trumpet.The second thing, was a possible battle against Donghyuck for it.The last thing, was to fall in love.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30
Collections: '00 FIC FEST ROUND TWO





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 328: Persons A and B are trumpeters in the same university orchestra, whose rivalry stems from their middle school days. With their orchestra's elections upcoming, tensions are high as both vie for the President's position.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate it here?”

“Only about a hundred times,” Jeno nudged the body next to him fully awake as the bus came to a stop. “Make it a hundred and one times now.” Donghyuck poked him back, begrudgingly digging around for his bags. 

“Who the _fuck_ kicked my case,” he inspected some fresh scratches as they clambered off, thick coats brushing.

“I told you you shouldn’t have gotten a bright orange, _plastic_ one,” Jeno hugged his own fabric case under one arm and dragged a small suitcase with the other. Donghyuck sighed. 

“You know how my mum can’t say no to discounts,” he adjusted his grip. “When did Mark say he was coming?”

“Uh…” Jeno paused, pulling out his phone that was already threatening to fall out his pocket onto the concrete path (as it already had, five times. It was a miracle it even still turned on). “Later probably. Yeah: ‘About 4pm’.” Donghyuck let out a puff of air and watched it spiral into smoke. 

“It’s not like a flute is so hard to carry. Trumpets get heavy after a while,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna have to re-set up the room by myself,” he sent an innocent stray rock flying as they approached the dorm buildings. 

“Suck it up,” Jeno blew at a leaf on his coat, nearly dropping his case in the process. “Your arms _can’t_ be as weak as your lungs,” he jogged ahead as Donghyuck tried to shove his own case into his side, laughing and shouting. 

“I will burst your eardrums, Lee Jeno.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

They both finally slowed and came to a stop outside a familiar building, both of them forming trails of warm air. “Lift under maintenance” wasn’t the best start; the stairs hadn’t seemed to get any easier to climb, and even Donghyuck, whose room was on a floor below Jeno, had to lean down to pant before saying a breathless goodbye. 

“Let me know when Mark arrives,” Jeno pointed with a gloved hand at his misery whilst dragging his legs up one more floor, but Donghyuck had already headed in. 

He shook his head, setting down his case carefully at his own room door to take a breather, before fumbling for his key- not the easiest task with gloves, as it jangled to the floor by the very worn “welcome” mat he’d put down last year. 

“Nice keychain,” a voice came from behind him, and picked up the keys. There was a soft thump of something else also being set down. “God damn, those stairs…” Jeno stood up to see another student: shorter than him, beanie snug and a violin-sized case sitting next to him. 

“Have...I met you before?” he took the keys from him and tilted his head. 

“Probably. I’m Renjun. That _really_ cute violinist?” he smiled, making no move to pick up his case. Jeno’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape. 

“I see. You live in this building too?” Jeno tried to recall.

“Actually, I ended up moving this year. It’s a long story,” Renjun motioned for him to open the door, which he immediately obeyed. “I hope I wasn’t _too_ much of a surprise.”

“You’re...we’re...?” Jeno stood awkwardly outside the open door. 

“Surprise?” 

Jeno had to stop himself from dumping out everything in his suitcase on the once spare bed. They’d settled into an odd silence, neither of them quite knowing what to make of this other stranger.

“So...how’s trumpet?” Renjun gestured to Jeno’s case he’d placed at the foot of his bed, now covered by his coat. He placed his own, slightly larger, on one of the chairs by the corner desk. By the occasional highlighter stain on the tabletop, Jeno had utilised the whole thing solidly last year. “I thought I recognised you from brass.”

“Alright. I’ve been playing it for so long that it’s like an extension of my body,” he replied from the closet. “And violin?” Renjun nodded. 

“The same.” 

And the silence settled once again, with some occasional muttering here and there. 

“Are you gonna enter for first chair this year? I’m trying my luck at getting concertmaster,” Renjun figured they could at least bond over something they had in common. If he would let him, he thought afterwards, before taking a deep breath. _Fresh start, fresh start._

“Probably. It’ll be tough this year to get the position though; Jungwoo is for sure entering again and Donghyuck will definitely go for it if I do,” Jeno replied before quickly adding, “He’s a close friend. Been playing for just as long as me…”

“I think I’ve seen him before.” Objects started to fill the desks and shelves. 

“If you’ve seen me before then you’ve probably seen him. And Mark for that matter. What’s taking him so long?” Jeno asked no one in particular, picking up his phone to check the time before throwing it back on the bed to Renjun’s mild shock. 

“Mark? That flautist guy?”

“Yeah that dude.”

“The one sir always picks on because he plays too quietly?”

“...yeah, that dude,” Jeno nodded, a smile playing on his lips. 

“I see. Can you pass me that book? No don-” ‘ _Thwak’_ as the book hit the floor in front of Renjun. “-throw it. I can’t catch for shit,” he finished, picking it up and accepting Jeno’s sheepish apology. 

A tentative knock and careful turning of keys wasn’t quite the Mark-entrance Donghyuck expected. Probably because he was about to find out that it wasn’t Mark. 

“Mark Lee, you’re the wor- he started to scold before turning to the door from organising various brushes and bottles.

“Damn what did this Mark Lee do,” a stranger stood by the doorway, staring straight at a half- confused, half-in-shock Donghyuck.

“What have _you_ done to Mark?” he finally said, his head still very much in confusion. He glanced at his phone; still no vibration. The stranger shook his head, pulling out a piece of paper and walking in with his things. He handed the paper to Donghyuck. 

“I’d prefer if you could refer to me as Jaemin, thanks,” he said as he started to settle some books on the other empty desk. Donghyuck read the paper in silence, before handing it back.

“I _hate_ it here,” he grumbled, less jokingly this time. Jaemin raised an eyebrow. 

“That makes the two of us. But I suppose you’d probably be better than…” he trailed off, Donghyuck looking expectantly at him. And for the first time, his ‘intimidating’ gaze was met square in the eye.

“Than who. Tell me,” he turned away bluntly. “You can’t be worse or better than Mark,” he added lightly. Jaemin paused, processing whether or not he should question it- he chose otherwise (the better choice). 

“Story for another time,” he turned away too. “I don’t suppose you dislike me enough yet to tell me your name though?”

“ _Yet_ …” he scoffed. “Donghyuck.”

“At this point the ‘yet’ is necessary, yes. Pleased to meet you,” Jaemin turned around and extended a hand, to his surprise. After waiting a good three seconds in which Donghyuck just stared at it, not knowing how to react anymore, Jaemin sighed as if to say “should’ve known”, and lowered his hand. 

Soft vibrations came from Donghyuck’s bed and he practically scrambled for his phone. In the time that he fumbled to swipe up and answer the call, Jaemin could just about make out the contact ID: ‘Jeno’, with a playful kaomoji and obnoxious sparkles on either side of his name. At last Donghyuck managed to answer it and walked to the still open doorway. 

“No Mark?” Jeno asked immediately. 

“Nope!” he replied, popping the ‘p’ at the end. “He owes us dinner.” Jeno sighed. 

“Uh, Donghyuck,” Jaemin suddenly came up behind him. “Could I get past please?” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. He moved aside just as Jeno said,

“Then who was that?” Donghyuck behind Jaemin trotting down the stairs. 

“They kicked Mark out and now I’m stuck with this Jaemin guy,” he grumbled once he made sure Jaemin was fully out of earshot- he’d learnt the hard way last year that the stairwell was extremely echoey. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m no longer lonely in my room,” Jeno offered with a slight muffle halfway through his sentence from him dropping onto his bed. “They moved Renjun in with me. That really good violinist?” 

“At least you share something in common,” Donghyuck retorted. “Isn’t he there with you?”

“Went out to meet Chenle. You know Chenle.”

“They’re friends? What a power duo. Concert pianist and soon-to-be concertmaster.”

“I thought of all people _you’d_ know.”

“Hm. Well.” There was a brief silence before Jeno giggled, the usual signal connection really not doing it justice, in Donghyuck’s opinion. 

“You wanna spam Mark?” he laughed. 

“Let’s go,” and they hung up, just as Jaemin was arriving back with a giant plush teddy in his arms. He barely batted an eye when Donghyuck stared at him walking through and throwing the teddy by his side of the corner desk, on the floor.

“If you could _at_ _least_ not order the most expensive things…”

“So does this sound good Jeno?” Donghyuck pointed at something on the menu whilst scooting his chair slightly closer so that he could rest his head on Jeno’s shoulder. 

“Sure, sure,” Jeno laughed at first before collecting himself and answering as seriously as possible. 

“You don’t even like salmon!” Mark protested.

“He does now. Thank you Mark!” Donghyuck gave a satisfied nod and handed the menu back to Mark, Jeno trying to contain a snicker beside him. 

“Y’all...really…” he shook his head, still staring down at the menu himself, before calling over a waiter anyway. It wasn’t like he would have much choice anyway. 

Once the meals were ordered (and even Mark himself had agreed he should pay; again, not like he would have much choice), Donghyuck started to shuffle his chair back into its original position, only to have his arm tugged back. Jeno didn’t say anything, rather gave him a blank look. 

“They offered me a room with no roommate and _told_ me you would have the room to yourself so-”

“Traitor!” Donghyuck stuck his tongue out at Mark, but still grinned his usual grin. “Nah, I would’ve done the same thing. But still, traitor.”

“Jaemin can’t be so bad. He’s a perfectly good guy in class.”

“You’re in his classes?” Jeno’s eyes widened and Mark nodded. 

“He’s also a chem major. Sometimes has a questionable pair of hands when it comes to holding the glassware, but other than that he’s a nice dude and a good student. I dunno why you’re so worked up about him,” he made a gesture in Donghyuck’s direction. “I don’t see Jeno being so reluctant about a roomie.”

“You talk like a parent,” Donghyuck poked at him whilst slumping back. He unlinked his arm from Jeno’s and instead slung it around his shoulders. 

“He’s made a point though,” Jeno murmured to him, but just loud enough for Mark to hear and shrug as if saying “I told you so”. At that, Donghyuck removed his arm and shuffled his chair back in Mark’s direction, to the amusement of the other two. 

“Like I said, at least you have _some_ point of discussion with him. I bet in a month’s time y’all are gonna be going to practice without us two,” he huffed. “Not to mention that I can indeed confirm that he’s also a decent guy…” Now it was Mark’s turn to be surprised. 

“He’s in business with you?” 

“Yeah. And surprisingly good at it too. I guess maths and music really do go together for some people,” Donghyuck shrugged. “Can’t relate.” Jeno rested an elbow on the table to prop his chin up, looking pointedly at him. 

“Maybe if you had taken music instead…” Donghyuck waved a hand dismissively and Mark nearly had to brace himself for another one of their “debates”. Last time he checked, debates usually didn’t involve so much emotional baggage (or mild physical fighting for that matter). One of these, coupled with the fact they were at a restaurant, eating a dinner that was on _him_... 

“Yada yada, you already know how it is,” he cheshire-cat smiled in Jeno’s direction. “School hasn’t even technically started. Save it.” Mark breathed a sigh of relief. 

“On that subject though, did y’all practice those pieces over the holiday?” he jumped in just as they received their drinks. No alcohol tonight. Whether that was good or bad, would be decided by tomorrow. 

“Unfortunately yes,” Donghyuck rubbed his lips. “My cheek muscles are damn sore.”

“God, same. The arranger had no business giving first trumpets so many high notes,” Jeno went along with the change of subject. “I’m convinced that no amount of practice will ever make them any easier at this point.”

“Maybe we’re both just shit,” Donghyuck laughed. 

“Ey, I doubt that,” Mark said before Jeno could answer. Perhaps this just wasn’t the best subject to be on. “Ready for _more_ exams then?” He was met with two loud groans and an especially aggressive squint from Jeno. 

  
  


Jeno nearly slammed the entrance door open on Mark’s face, before giving him a stunned up-down look. 

“Wasn’t your class supposed to…?” Mark gave him an indifferent look and sighed. Jeno nodded slowly, moving them out of the way for the other students to also exit. He gave a quick wave at Chenle, who was about to go off with his dance major friend. Friend? Jisung? Was that him?

“I’m aware of that, yes.”

“So then why are you…?” 

“Jeno, you ask too many questions.”

“I-I do?” he asked whilst being dragged away in the direction of the main building exit. “Oh. Maybe I do. Wait, where are we going?” Mark stopped and looked at him pointedly. “...I see what you mean now.” 

They continued in silence towards the library and cafe and entered a small study room with an array of pens, Mark’s laptop and a textbook spread across it. Mark roughly gathered them to one half and Jeno plonked his bag onto the vacated space. 

“Did you skip? Again?”

“Not all of it,” Mark sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. “Prof left the room to get something and I was getting bored. I doubt she even noticed I left. And besides,” he flicked the textbook to the next page, “I’m a pro at being unconventionally productive.”

“Interesting term,” Jeno opened up his laptop, scrolling to his notes to write up better as he usually did. “So you’ve just been self-studying this whole time?” Mark shrugged. 

“A bit of both. Works for me,” he typed up something, and just then a figure knocked at the glass door to the room, nodded in greeting to Jeno before a slightly stunned Mark let him in. The stranger slapped a couple pages of writing on the table.

“Some notes for whatever you missed. Although it doesn’t look like you’ll need them anyway…” he scrolled, leaning down on Mark’s screen. 

“Ah. Uh, thanks Jaemin,” Mark scratched the back of his neck. Despite still maintaining a little focus, Jeno couldn’t help but look at his friend with curiosity. Jaemin, huh. 

“No problem. They’re just whatever I managed to write down but I hope they help,” he said with a small smile. Then he turned to Jeno. Now that he was looking directly at him, Jeno had to also mention: Jaemin wasn’t bad looking by any means. A handsome dude _and_ willingly shares notes? _Donghyuck’s scored great._

“You...you look kinda familiar. Jeno? Is it?” Jaemin tilted his head. 

“That’s me,” he squeaked unintentionally. He glanced over at Mark, who seemed to be reading through Jaemin’s notes at lightning speed. 

“I see. You’re a friend of Donghyuck right? Yeah, you called him yesterday. I remember because of that contact name he gave you,” Jaemin spoke smoothly and neutrally, with somehow minimal emotion. 

“Was it that memorable?” 

“I have a good memory,” he shrugged. “But anyway,” he placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder nonchalantly and he noticeably tensed up, “I shall be leaving you two on your lil’ study date now.”

“It’s not-”

“Well, not rea-” They both went to say, but Jaemin had already left.

Mark took his seat again, still endlessly going through those few sheets as if he didn’t read them correctly the first time. He set them down at last, holding his head in his hands as if to process something. 

“You okay there?” Jeno laughed at his unusually blank face. “Are you going through it?”

“You could say that.” Mark cut off his laughter by coughing but then asked, “Have you ever had a crush on anyone before?” There was an awkward stillness throughout the room and he shook his head. 

“Never mind then, I guess not. Moving on!”

“No, no, I was just…”

“-Shocked that we’ve avoided this topic since high school?” Mark re-adjusted his hat and bit his lip. 

“Yeah. That’s probably it.” They both started laughing, for no particular reason, before Mark started to talk seriously. 

“C’mon, that was when we were all closeted anyway.”

“There wasn’t anyone _to_ like in highschool.”

“Maybe so,” Mark nodded. 

“But why do you ask?” Jeno prompted, already kind of knowing what he was getting at. He glanced at his watch; still about half an hour before Donghyuck got out of his class. Both of them had always agreed that these study rooms felt too big for just the two of them, and even when Jaemin came it still felt empty compared to if Donghyuck was here- at least to Jeno. 

“Just wanted to know if you’ve felt _that_ before,” Mark said. 

“What is _that_ , specifically?” 

“I guess it’s hard to explain. Everyone experiences it differently anyway,” he sighed, sitting up properly and getting back to the notes. 

“What? Romantic love?” At that, his head shot up. 

“ _No_ , not... _love_ ,” he said ‘love’ as if it were such a big deal. Which to him, Jeno guessed: it was. 

“Uh huh? Then what?”

“Forget it,” Mark waved a hand, fully avoiding eye contact now. “Not like I have time for a relationship anyway.” They sat in silence for a couple minutes, both with earphones in and typing away. 

“So then may I ask…?” Jeno looked up briefly across to Mark, who suddenly seemed very set on typing out an entire paragraph in a minute. 

“No you may _not_ ask,” Mark insisted. They both stared at each other, Jeno with innocent eyes and Mark with narrowed ones. Finally, he broke eye contact and instead turned to the sheets beside him. 

“It’s exactly who you think it is-”

“Jaemin?” Mark closed his eyes. 

“Yeah. Jaemin. Him,” he croaked. 

“How long for?” 

“Jeno, you ask too many questions.”

  
  


Somehow the familiar flat stench of the practice hall _still_ hadn’t floated away during the holiday, despite it supposedly being aired out. Here; where countless hours had been spent slaving away, where Donghyuck clicked open his case, giving his trumpet a quick dust down before stretching his fingers a bit and oiling the valves. 

“It’s been a week and your case has about six more scratches than when I last saw it,” Jeno came beside him and kneeled down to zip open his own case. 

“Perhaps it’s just a little bulkier than I thought,” he retorted, screwing the last valve back in. Just then, Mark came from behind after doing a couple rough scales. 

“Entries for lead positions start today.”

“Indeed they do,” their conductor overheard from his stand nearby, looking up from sorting through some scores. “All of you are going for it, I assume? No reason not to.”

“Yes, sir,” Donghyuck slightly bowed, avoiding eye contact. 

He was never really on good terms with their conductor, merely because he wasn’t nearly as qualified as the rest, despite how skillful he was anyway. There was an unspoken inferior ‘look-down’ feeling he’d always get from him, and it rubbed him the wrong way, to say the least. 

“Good to hear,” he got back to the scores after observing Jeno and Mark too. “We start in five minutes, so I suggest you guys warm up.” They moved towards their usual positions, trumpets further to the back than flutes. Both Donghyuck and Jeno smiled in greeting at Renjun and Chenle when they entered, meanwhile Mark was busy replaying an F major scale for the third time, but glanced up at Renjun before quickly looking forward again. The rest of the hall slowly became louder and chaotic as it began to fill with some scared, new faces of freshmen and some familiar, old now third and fourth years. Until at last the conductor rapped the baton on the music stand a couple times and the hall promptly quietened down.

“Just before I allow a short break...” the conductor gazed around at them. His stare seemed to burn into Donghyuck’s skull and he squinted back. Jeno nudged at his side.

“Save it,” he gave a low whisper. Donghyuck rolled his eyes and allowed himself to slouch in his chair. 

“...positions will be open by the end of the day. I do hope a good number of you will enter,” his gaze now turned to about where Renjun was sitting. “It’s a great opportunity especially for those doing a music major.” Jeno sat up straight at that, only to have a hand placed on his knee. 

“Save it,” Donghyuck raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. If it hadn’t been for the conductor’s talk being finally over, they would’ve been in trouble, as they both immediately burst into laughter straight after. Jeno’s laughs trailed off and he shook his head, leaning down to chug half his water bottle. 

“If you two keep talking whilst sir is you’re gonna get in trouble one day,” Mark warned, and sat on an empty seat next to Donghyuck, his own water bottle in hand. 

“And how exactly do you even know we were talking?” Donghyuck wiped out his mouthpiece. 

“Were _you_ not paying attention to him?” Jeno teased, followed by Donghyuck making noises of agreement. “Wow, Mark I never expected that from you,” he continued, not giving him a chance to protest. Donghyuck leaned into him with silent laughter as his teasing escalated into just plain nonsense. 

“There are some things that you just _know_ okay?” Mark finally said once Jeno and Donghyuck had finished laughing at him. They sighed contently, continuing to banter back and forth before the break finished and Mark returned to his chair. 

“On beat...good. Percussion a little softer? Better,” the conductor shouted out remarks as they did a final run through the first sections for that day. To Jeno’s shock, as they came to a part where the trumpets were supposed to crescendo gradually, Donghyuck did so much faster than needed. And played much louder than needed. In response to make him stand out less, Jeno followed suit. 

“Trumpets! Quieter!” he barked. Donghyuck did the exact opposite of that, practically forcing the others to also follow suit. He felt a firm kick on his ankle from Jeno, who had instead channeled the energy into a brighter sound rather than loudness. Donghyuck cast him an annoyed side glance, and he received one right back.

“You’re still too loud! _Still_ too loud! Okay,” he lowered the baton. “As this is only our first practice of this term, I will let it go this once. But trumpets,” he looked pointedly at them, his gaze shifting between Donghyuck and Jeno, “You have a lot to work on in your sectionals. But anyway, that’s a wrap for today!”

“What the fuck was that?” Jeno immediately said as he followed Donghyuck to where their cases were. “What were you thinking?”

“Wasn’t it fun?” he looked to Jeno and kneeled beside him. 

“No? My cheeks are even achier than they’d normally be!” Jeno groaned. “What was the point?”

“That I’m better than you,” he gritted, clicking his own case close. 

“Wh-what the fuck? Donghyuck, I don’t mean to sound like a teacher, but loudne-”

“You aren’t understanding.”

“I think I’m understanding _completely_.”

“Then I wouldn’t need to repeat myself,” he bluntly said, yanking Jeno’s case close for him.


	2. Chapter 2

They’d gone their separate ways after that practice; Donghyuck to his afternoon class and Jeno back to his dorm for the evening. The sun had started to set later than anticipated, and there was no longer a need to wear coats outside, or stand by the heater for the first few seconds after entering a building. In other words, winter was ending. 

But not for Donghyuck. Right after a quick dinner he’d scarfed down in minutes, it was straight to a stinky practice room. Stinky was probably an understatement, yet no matter how much he loathed it, they were somehow always a place of odd comfort. The freedom of getting to scream all the swear words he wanted whenever he got a rhythm wrong was a big part, but for him, it was mainly because he’d spent so many hours in there perfecting everything until it was stellar and beyond. Satisfactory, in his terms. 

“Fucking hell, that trill is so fucking…” he growled, marking something on the score and dropping the pencil to the carpet floor. There were two vibrations from his phone, a couple seconds apart, but he dismissed it as a trick of his mind, and immediately picked his trumpet back up to restart the phrase. 

But they were annoyingly insistent, and not long after when he’d paused to rest his lips (in the middle of a phrase, but it wasn’t like anyone was there to hear him anyway), he finally blinked the screen on: a string of messages from Mark, two from Jaemin. One from Jeno, which he barely glanced over. He read them, but simultaneously didn’t read them, and as soon as he put his phone back down, there was another vibration. 

“Probably complaining about being left on read,” he giggled, wiping out his mouthpiece and beginning to play. But reluctantly, just five minutes later, he turned it back on to check the time: half past past eleven in the night. He’d been practicing for at least an hour or two by now. 

He stretched out his cheeks, not bothering to leave Mark on read this time and it was back to work. 

Many more minutes passed (and many more curses and vibrations), but all he told himself was " _In the next break"_. And almost always "in his next break" he proceeded to write down more notes, go to the toilet, or wash his mouthpiece instead.

In one of these ‘breaks’ he returned to a familiar someone walking down the corridor in the opposite direction, checking on each room. Hands stuffed in pockets, cap and mask obscuring his face. By now, it was probably just past midnight. Or maybe it was 3am- Donghyuck wouldn’t know. As he started to approach closer, he started to see clearer the figure under the bucket hat. They both stopped outside his practice room. 

“Mark told me you’d probably be here,” Jaemin quietly said. Donghyuck rubbed his eyes, bringing himself to open the door and letting the both of them in against his will. 

“He didn’t tell _me_ you’d probably be here.”

“That’s because he didn’t.” Jaemin settled with his knees tucked to his chest in a corner. 

“What do you want? I’m still kinda busy here,” Donghyuck gestured to the music stand. 

“You do realise it’s,” he looked at his watch, “nearly 1am right?”

“What’s it to you?” Donghyuck shot back unnecessarily harshly and stifled a yawn straight after. Jaemin scooched a little closer to his chair, but still on the floor- something Donghyuck admittedly had to commend him for. Who knows how much spit had built up on the floor over the months since cleaning, from lazy people like himself who couldn’t be bothered to go to the bathrooms every time he needed to empty the spit tube. He cringed at the thought.

“Mark says you’re usually in these rooms for hours at a time.”

“And he’d be right.”

“Doesn’t it make you go crazy from exhaustion, doing this to yourself?”

“But it’s worth the work. It’s worth it,” Donghyuck repeated, although he wasn’t quite sure who he was trying to convince. 

“Why do you say that?”

“What is this, an interview?” he bristled at the continuous questions. Didn’t Jaemin have better things to be doing? 

“I just want to make sure you’re doing okay. Because you may not care so much about me, but _I_ care about _you,_ ” Jaemin prodded gently at his calve and strangely, Donghyuck was just too tired to move it away on reflex. 

“Great. You can show you care about me by getting the hell out.” Jaemin raised his hands in surrender, and got up to leave. There was a jarring click of the door closing behind him, and Donghyuck was once again, alone. Alone, in a practice room, at one in the morning. He laughed, loud and long, flipping through pages. 

“Care, my ass,” he coughed with delirity. It felt kind of good to let loose after concentrating for so long. But nonetheless, he picked up his instrument again and began again. 

It was about a page later and a soft bump against a wall outside, when a wave of true exhaustion started to pound at him. A dull headache numbed the back of his head, and he lost feeling in his lips and cheeks until he could convince himself they were just frozen. Which was a believable lie he told himself since they’d probably turned off the heating by now. In a foolish attempt to stay awake, just to finish this piece, he crept to the door where some faint voices were lurking. They were characterless voices to him, as his brain just couldn’t be bothered to distinguish them. 

“...doing here?”

“Waiting for a friend. And you, Renjun?” Jaemin stared up at him with the sleepy doe eyes he was oh-so used to. Those were definitely a pair of eyes Renjun could never forget letting lost in. 

“Couldn’t sleep. So I’m practicing here.” Jaemin lowered his gaze, focusing back on his phone which was now starting to run out of charge. 

“At least you’ve learnt your lesson. What else are you just starting to learn?” Donghyuck heard another thump: Renjun pushing Jaemin’s shoulder against the wall. 

“Oh, getting bold now I see.”

“Listen, Jaemin. It’s both too early and too late, in the morning, night, in...time. I advise you to stop whilst I still have the patience.” Footsteps receded from the room. 

“Good night!” Jaemin called after him. Donghyuck didn’t hear any response. 

He slumped up against the wall, and not really knowing why, opened the door to Jaemin sitting outside. They stared at each other; Jaemin taking in his droopy eyes and marked lips, meanwhile all Donghyuck had the energy left to do was say, 

“Why did you call me a friend?”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t like it,” he grumbled. He was about to close the door on him again, when Jaemin suddenly stood up and propped it open. 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Jaemin asked again, in the exact same tone as the first time. Donghyuck rolled his eyes, and retreated back into the room. Jaemin followed. “You’re fucking exhausted.”

“No, I’m not.” As if to prove otherwise, Donghyuck brought the trumpet to his lips, but the sound that emerged was faint, and strangled. Salty liquid started to pool around the corners of his mouth, making the mouthpiece slip around. He was about to wipe his mouth and try again when Jaemin placed a finger on the bell, and slowly lowered it to his lap. 

“Yes, you are,” he whispered. “Let’s go back.”

“No! No, not until I just get this right…” But Jaemin took out the mouthpiece before the trumpet could even reach his mouth again. 

“You can get it right some other time. I’m sure...whatever this is for...it’s not the end of the world if you just stop now.” He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t say that _he_ was starting to get drowsy now too. But he was soon wide awake again, when he caught a single tear dropping from Donghyuck’s hanging head onto a tube.

“Because it’s not only for me. I want to feel proud, and I want other people to feel proud of me too.”

“Are these ‘other people’ so worth it then?” Jaemin asked rather naively, but used a sleeve to wipe more tears away. Donghyuck struggled to bat his hand away.

“They’re worth the world and more to me,” he answered simply, before letting out another delirious giggle. “I’m so fucking useless.” Jaemin didn’t quite know how to respond to this, as Donghyuck’s shoulders started shaking and he had to place his trumpet back in its case for him as it threatened to fall off his lap. 

He got up and showed the mouthpiece to him with an open palm, although Donghyuck could barely make it out through blurry eyes. 

“I’ll go to the bathroom to get you some tissues and wash this. Then we are going back,” he snatched his hand back before Donghyuck could reach out and take it back. He tried to protest, but the words got stuck in his throat and choked him. 

Not so long after (according to his now very out-of-whack body clock), Jaemin returned with said tissues, and a shining mouthpiece. Both were struggling to keep their eyes open, but one more so than the other. 

The case was finally closed and Jaemin lifted it by the handle- it was slightly heavier than he’d expected. Then he kicked open the door and motioned to Donghyuck, still sitting sullenly on his chair. Jaemin sighed, taking him by the arm and pulling him up. Once up, he offered a hand to Donghyuck. He stared at it for a couple seconds but eventually: he took it. 

  
  


“Hey,” Renjun sat down next to Donghyuck in class the following afternoon. “You awake?” Donghyuck sat up, removing his hood and observing this person who never sat to him, sitting next to him. He’d forgotten all about whatever Renjun’s conversation with Jaemin had been. 

“I am now. Do you want anything?” Renjun shook his head. 

“Jeno and Mark were asking where you were at practice just now.” Donghyuck flipped his hood back on and leaned back in his seat, sighing deeply. 

“He’s got some nerve to be doing all _that_ yesterday and then not show up today,” Jeno had huffed, looking around the practice hall for the third time since they got there. “It’s not unlike him to be late, but he’d at least tell us. Renjun! Hey!” He waved him over, alongside Chenle. Mark, knelt beside him, shot up with a half assembled flute. 

“Heyyo,” Renjun smiled in greeting to the both of them, and Chenle did the same. 

“Did you happen to see Donghyuck on the way here?” They both shook their heads. 

“I have class with him next though, I’ll check,” Renjun had offered. 

“If it’s no trouble, that would be great,” Mark cleared his throat, and yet his words stumbled out robotically. Chenle raised an eyebrow at him, but he’d already looked back to the floor. 

“Of course they’d wonder where I was,” Donghyuck said. “What else did I expect- to go unnoticed?” Renjun chuckled at that, getting out his own things. 

“You missed out. Sir asked Jeno to try one of the solo parts. I’m sure if you were there, he would’ve asked you to.”

“What’s the use,” he stared straight ahead. “Asked or not, I wouldn’t have been able to do it much better.”

“What makes you say that? I don’t know the first thing about it, but I’m sure you’re more than capable.”

“I could say the same thing for you,” Donghyuck smiled pensively at him, before turning away again and changing the subject: “What’s it like being roommates with Jeno?” Renjun jokingly rolled his eyes, and laid back, mirroring Donghyuck’s posture. 

“Not bad, not bad at all. An upgrade for sure.”

“Upgrade from what?” he raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Spill.”

“It’s...it’s a long story.”

“And we’re both early to class,” Donghyuck insisted, and nudged at Renjun’s side. In response, Renjun pretend-threatened to hit him, at which they both laughed at before settling back down once another student had come in the room. 

“Sometimes mistakes are made,” Renjun started once they’d both calm down to a straight face again. “Sometimes mistakes happen, but life goes on. Leave shit in the past and just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Donghyuck gazed into a space wistfully. 

“Well-said, my friend.” 

“Yeah well, you learn from experience,” Renjun chuckled again. 

The next time Jeno saw Donghyuck was in yet another practice room, ten minutes before a sectional. He pushed the door open as Donghyuck was in the middle of a warm up scale, gaze more hardened than probably intended. They stared at each other without greeting at first, before Jeno pulled up with a piano stool, and sat down beside Donghyuck. He then put his case on his lap and took his trumpet out, wordlessly. 

“It’s not like you to be so early.”

“It’s not like _you_ to not show up and not tell neither Mark nor me,” he mumbled. 

“Need you two always worry over me? We’re not in high school anymore, as much as we wish we were,” Donghyuck propped up his instrument, bell side down on his knee. Jeno finished oiling that annoyingly stiff first valve, and pushed the mouthpiece in. 

“You say that, meanwhile nothing’s changed- you still tire yourself out at least every other month,” Jeno pointed at the faint bags under his eyes. “How many times have we told you to-” he paused. “Are you listening to me? Do you listen to yourse-”

“I know! I get it!” he burst out, almost immediately regretting it from the subtle hurt flash through Jeno’s eyes. He went silent again, but didn’t make a move to continue his warm up. The silence then was nearly deafening to the both of them, and sound proof walls didn’t help. Finally, Donghyuck let out a sigh, still making no move to start playing again. 

“Thanks for worrying about me,” he murmured, staring at the floor. Then he felt a hand on top of his. 

“Promise me you’ll do minimal practice at least in this week running up to the elections. Cut yourself some slack this term.”

“You’re just saying that so you’ll get that position.” Donghyuck had always been rather difficult to reason with, but Jeno just had to laugh at that response. 

“You think…” he stopped to laugh again, to Donghyuck’s confusion. “You think...that _I_ wanna make _this_ about _me_?” his laughter trailed off, and Donghyuck, realising what he’d said, also began to laugh. 

“I would completely stop practicing if you wanted me to, but-”

“Don’t, please don’t,” Donghyuck said, now serious. 

“-I won’t. I want you to trust me on this- do you?” Jeno’s hand, still on top of Donghyuck’s, felt a gentle squeeze as he clasped their fingers together. 

“I do.”

“And do you understand where I’m coming from?”

“Yeah. I know now that you somehow just want the best for me.” Jeno nodded, smiling and unlatching their fingers so he could hold his trumpet properly. 

“Do you wanna warm up now then?”

Renjun set down a steaming mug of tea that evening, and used an arm to forcefully organise his side of the corner desk, as Jeno’s wide spread of random pens and pencils were starting to creep in. They were promptly brushed back to his side absent-mindedly by Jeno writing something furiously on some book. 

“Exams aren’t till a _minute_ , relax a little,” Renjun said, flicking off Jeno’s desk light, the brightest light source in the room. If he hadn’t already gotten used to sleeping with the lights on already, Renjun would have probably complained to change roommates a second time. 

“Right after I annotate this bit...okay…and done!” Jeno sighed contently and his chair creaked. “Can’t wait to sleep for 12 hours straight.” He opened his phone and flicked some settings, changing it to airplane mode for the night. And the following morning. Thank god Renjun was a rather quiet roommate, though with the exception of whenever he’d lost something again (which had happened twice in the past month: keys the first time then his phone the second, to Jeno’s amusement). From time to time he’d also mutter under his breath random things, usually curses, about various inconveniences. But otherwise, it was almost like not having a roommate at all. 

“I don’t know how you can do that. Naps are my absolute savior,” Renjun took a sip of his tea, sitting at the end of his bed and opening up a book (he’d been ‘reading’ it every night these days, yet after a week he was only half way through). 

“So how’s it going for that concertmaster position?” Jeno got up and took a sniff of the tea on the way to his own bed: chamomile, and quite strong. 

“Alright. I have a solid chance, that’s for sure. But everyone else is so good that I honestly don’t mind if I don’t get it.” At that, Jeno cocked an eyebrow. 

“You...don’t mind?”

“Yeah. The first violin section is so big anyway, it’s only realistic,” he shrugged. “And you? You were going for first chair trumpet if I remember right?” Jeno nodded, flicking on his bedside lamp and snuggling into a pillow. He then thought for a moment. 

“It’s tough. But that’s just the way it is.”

“You and Donghyuck are both in that section right? He’s also going for…?”

“Mhm. Yeah.”

“Must be hard- having to compete against a friend.”

“It could be worse. I could be competing against an enemy.” Renjun took another sip of his tea, nodding his head thoughtfully and smacking his lips. 

“Isn’t it worse against a friend? I’ve always had that impression,” he looked over at Jeno, who was mindlessly putting away pens and pencils. Jeno looked up at the ceiling, collecting a thought, and then looked back at the desk.

“I look at it this way: if I compete against a friend and lose, I’m still satisfied. If I compete against an enemy and lose, I’m not. You see?”

“And then what about someone different?”

“Someone different? Hypothetically,” Jeno blew a raspberry, “I guess the same as with a friend. I guess.” Renjun hummed in response to acknowledge him, and the room fell into a cosy silence for a few minutes; one endlessly tidying and the other quietly reading. 

“Renjun? Why are you here?” Jeno said suddenly. “Not that I’m mad about it, you just never told me.”

“ _H_ _ere_?” Renjun pointed downwards to his bed. “Here? As in like-”

“Here,” Jeno said, dragging out the last syllable and vaguely gesturing to the room. 

“Did I not say that it was a long story?”

“Gimme a blurb then,” Jeno sat up straight on his bed and gave a bread smile. 

“You know very well that blurbs suck. Seriously, they’re getting worse and worse,” Renjun flipped to the back cover of the book, as if to read it. 

“I’m still curious. Tell me!” Jeno nagged, nearly bouncing on his bed in frustration. Renjun laughed and closed up his book, though keeping a finger on the page he’d stopped at (as if he was going to continue reading it right after that conversation...him and Jeno both knew that wasn’t going to happen). 

“I suppose I owe you an explanation. And I daresay Donghyuck might already know anyway so…”

“What does Donghyuck have to do with anything?” Jeno’s brain had already connected the dots, but somehow refused to give him the result clearly. He froze, Renjun looking at him expectantly and nearly asking him with his eyes to say it himself; save him the pain. When they’d gone silent a few seconds, Renjun sighed. 

“...so yeah.”

“You and Jaemin were roommates before,” Jeno breathed, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as it all became clear. “So then...what happened? You don’t have to-” he suddenly broke off, realising it probably wasn’t smart to ask about the details after he’d already kind of worked it out. But instead, Renjun wistfully smiled and closed his book fully, putting it on his desk and chugging the rest of his tea. 

“We’re also exes.”

“You and Jaemin... _mhm_ ,” Jeno gave a loud hum as he started to process this new information. “...I can’t see it,” he finally said, pondering. 

“Well, it happened. And then it passed, as all good things do,” Renjun laughed then nodded himself, replaying memories and swiftly archiving them again. 

“Wait, so then how-” he paused mid-question and shook his head, “Mark is right, I really do ask too many questions.”

“It’s alright,” Renjun’s voice hitched slightly indicating that it was in fact, not ‘alright’. “We’re over it. But yeah,” he finished off. “Remember when I said I couldn’t catch for shit? Apparently I can catch one thing and that’s feelings.” They laughed together, and Jeno clicked off his light. 


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s out! It’s out!” Donghyuck shouted down the phone when Jeno finally woke up to his missed calls, at half past noon the next day. Renjun had as usual, woken up earlier and was probably somewhere with Chenle. 

“What’s out?” Jeno groggily murmured. Swinging his legs out of bed seemed to take all his energy, although he had indeed slept about twelve hours. 

“What do you think?” Mark had probably snatched the phone from Donghyuck just then, and said in a less excitable voice, with a small shaky quality. 

“I don’t know. Tell me,” Jeno rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stood up, hobbling to the bathroom and wiping his face. 

“The election forms! It’s out!” Donghyuck had a hold of the phone again (after he hung up, Jeno found out that it was actually Mark who had called him). “Jeno!”

“Oh. That’s cool,” he brought himself to say, holding his phone with one hand and brushing his teeth with the other. 

“But anyway,” Mark had taken his phone back, Donghyuck still trying to scream down it in the background, “Are you free for lunch? My treat.”

“As it should be.”

“...should be,” Donghyuck parroted in the background and Jeno heard a faint wack of probably Mark slapping him. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” Jeno spit out the toothpaste and roughly combed out his tangled hair and wiped his face one more time. “When?”

“Now.”

“Now?” he made some confused noises whilst hurriedly going through his stack of ‘worn once but can be worn again’ clothes which thankfully Renjun didn’t make too much fuss about or nag him to wash. 

“See you at the usual place then! And don’t forget to do the elections! Mwah!” At least Donghyuck seemed back to normal, Jeno thought, distancing the phone from his cheek when the kiss was sent. At last he could file through his messages, only to find a string of screenshots from Donghyuck: the options for the election. 

“I can’t believe (sung)” he captioned one in which there was a screenshot of someone else who had checked off a not-Renjun for concertmaster. Then there was another picture of the nominees for ‘trumpet- first chair’ with both their names highlighted with neon exclamations dancing next to them (although in Jeno’s opinion unless you were actually in the section, you shouldn’t be allowed to vote for first chairs in other sections. To be fair though, since the conductor could see who was voting, votes for yourself didn’t count and votes within your own section were counted as five normal ones- an overcomplicated system, but it was something). 

He closed his phone, throwing on just slightly musty clothes and grabbing keys before heading out. The elections could wait.

By the time Jeno arrived, there was only Jaemin left to come apparently. He sat in between a chatting-his-ear-off Donghyuck and twiddling-thumbs Renjun, who courteously greeted him anyway and then went back to gazing into an empty space. Mark was sitting next to him, looking down, before attempting to strike up a conversation about his violin playing experience, observing him with genuine interest. 

“Have you chosen? Have you submitted the form?” Donghyuck immediately turned to Jeno, placing a hand on his thigh and shaking it. 

“Later, later,” Jeno laughed good-heartedly, but internally rolled his eyes. “Were you the one who talked Mark into this?” he about to motion to their friend, but as it turned out, he was being preoccupied by Jaemin arriving just then. He greeted Mark warmly, nodded to the both of them with a grin, but gave a tight smile to Renjun and sat in the last empty space next to Donghyuck. Renjun had stopped talking then, and let Mark talk to Jaemin instead. He leaned forward, peering at Donghyuck from behind Jeno’s seat. 

“I never talk Mark into anything,” he innocently said, trying to sound offended.

“Ah, is that so…”

“And anyway, he agreed that it would be good to celebrate in the meantime!”

“Celebrate what exactly?” Renjun piped in this time with curiosity. 

“The results tomorrow! I’m sure you’re gonna win,” Donghyuck continued, his attention now on Renjun instead as Jeno tried to steer the conversation away from elections, but it somehow always rounded back. Meanwhile, he was listening in on whatever Mark and Jaemin were talking about; something about exams, something about their equally shitty time management, something about a project...usually the flow was Jaemin saying anything and Mark bashfully following it up with a response only he thought was witty. And then Jaemin's smile would politely grow and the cycle started again. But, it was better than hearing Donghyuck talk about the elections. 

“It feels weird being the only person here who doesn’t play an instrument,” Jaemin said, about halfway through their meal. 

“Learn one then,” Donghyuck said. “Never too late. Join the cult.”

“I think I’ll pass on that. But thanks for the invitation,” he replied, shooting Donghyuck a smile. “I’ve seen how laborious it can be anyway…” he then said, glanced at Renjun from the corner of his eye, who immediately looked away. 

“So then if you were to hypothetically learn one, what would you choose?” Jeno asked. Mark looked very pointedly at him, as if to tempt him into choosing flute. He laughed at him, but then hummed in thought. 

“Hm...drums? Drums seem cool.” Everyone’s shoulders simultaneously fell at that, and he laughed again. “No offence of course. But I’ve always found drums kinda cool.”

“Maybe you could play for a band then. You don’t seem like a classical music person,” Mark accepted, going back to eating. Jeno exchanged a questioning look with Donghyuck whilst they were both looking down- it was weird seeing Mark talking so friendly to someone that wasn’t one of them. Jeno raised an eyebrow whilst Donghyuck shrugged at him. 

"He isn't," Renjun sullenly offered, pretending to be absorbed in eating. Jaemin seemed to look mildly shocked at his input, but didn't question it.

"Maybe next year or something. If everything goes well," he sighed. They left the conversation at that, and Donghyuck started to discuss his predictions for the other sections, which Renjun and Mark happily went with. That left Jeno to awkwardly start talking to Jaemin from across the table, who half the time ironically seemed to be paying more attention to Mark or Renjun- which was understandable because they were the ones sitting in between them. Eventually he announced that he would leave then; he was going to the library to study. 

“I thought you said you finished your work last night,” Donghyuck pouted, oddly making Jeno’s heart pound as his honeyed eyes met his. “Stay a bit longer and I’ll come with,” he said now, a little more insistently.

“Could you _stop_ talking about the elections then?” Jeno finally burst, thankfully not too harshly to break their eye contact. “I...just don’t care so much.”

“You’ll care tomorrow.”

“That may be true. But _today_ , I don’t care.” 

“We’ll talk about something else then. Sit, Jeno,” Mark butted in then, but honestly neither of them minded, rather it probably stopped a bigger escalation than was necessary (as was what sometimes happened when they forgot they were in fact, not the only people present). Jaemin and Renjun were exchanging uneasy, vague glances at each other. Jeno sat as instructed, dropping his bag to the floor. 

And Donghyuck had been correct: the first thing Jeno checked upon waking up was if the results had been released. They had been, and he subsequently received a plethora of messages from Renjun celebrating his new concertmaster position. Strangely, there was radio silence from Donghyuck’s end, and a couple messages from Mark. Still waking up, he scrolled slowly the first couple announcements until halfway through the page. 

Neither him nor Donghyuck had gotten it. And he wasn’t surprised. In fact, Jungwoo was such a respectable competitor that they almost _couldn’t_ be mad. Almost. 

Still in pyjama pants, a t-shirt and slippers, and knowing Donghyuck had probably stayed in his dorm to wait for the results, Jeno rushed down the stairs two at a time and barely had to even knock before he’d opened the door. Donghyuck looked in about the same condition as him; shirtless and in shorts, but face washed and hair still dripping a little. And the first thing he did was hug Jeno. 

“You’re getting my shirt wet,” he murmured, pushing them both inside and closing the door whilst Donghyuck was still clinging onto him. 

“Hug me back, bitch.” He did. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Donghyuck repeated over and over until all Jeno could do was let him. “You’re disappointed.”

“The only person I’m disappointed in is myself, at this point,” Jeno chuckled, rubbing circles on Donghyuck’s back. 

“Yeah, I expected better from you, Lee Jeno,” he let go suddenly and laughed through his tears, hysterical almost. “What a reality check.” He collapsed onto his bed and Jeno sat next to him, a hand on his. 

“Well.”

“Well indeed.” They were silent for a minute or two, still absorbing the information. In that time, Jeno had also lay down, his back on Donghyuck’s torso and legs sticking out the side of the bed. Donghyuck in turn rolled over so that he pushed Jeno off but instead nestled his head in the crook of his neck, and locked their legs together. He giggled at random intervals until just before he started to gently snore, he murmured,

“Ah, this is crazy.”

In the meantime, Jeno was finally able to properly scroll through his messages: Mark had sent a couple more (mostly dumb reaction memes), Jaemin had asked how the results were (they’d exchanged numbers yesterday) and Renjun patted himself on the back (and offered Fs in chat). In response to Mark, he’d sent a picture of Donghyuck now napping with a tiny sliver of his own face in the frame. 

_Aw_

_The ol scream n slep_

_Ikr_

_But yall should email sir and ask what place you came_

_That’s what im doing_

_You can do that????_

_Sure why not_

“Who’s that?” Donghyuck now shoved Jeno aside and sat up, somehow fully awake again.

“Mark. He’s emailing sir to see what place he got, ‘cause you know.”

“It’s Mark? Predictable,” he grabbed the shirt hanging at the foot of his bed and slipped it on. Jeno stayed seated on his bed, answering the other messages whilst Donghyuck paced around until he finally decided to open his laptop.

“So what should I put in the thing?” he asked Jeno a little while later once he’d opened up his emails and skimmed through his new ones. Jeno walked to behind his chair and peered over his shoulder at the screen. Donghyuck had already typed out a couple sentences. 

“A bit passive aggressive, isn’t it?”

“Sir would expect nothing less from me.”

“Yeah but the ‘with all due respect’ _does_ sound…”

“Would _you_ expect anything less from me?” Donghyuck looked up at him, and Jeno uneasily shifted his gaze between him and the screen. 

“Fine, send it then.”

“Done.”

_*Photo attachment*_

Jeno’s phone vibrated from the other side of the desk that lonely evening, and even though he’d managed to avoid checking his phone for the past hour or so, he couldn’t resist this one. 

_So_

_I got second and you got third_

_By three votes_

Donghyuck had texted as a follow up. The picture he’d sent was a screenshot of the reply to the email they’d sent that morning, and Jeno barely skimmed it, merely skipping to the part where indeed it confirmed: he’d gotten third, and Donghyuck finished in second. 

_Ok_

_Great_

He texted back, and turned his phone on airplane mode, intending to continue studying even harder to forget it all. But studying whilst pondering mixed suppressed emotions, proved to not be the easiest task for Jeno. 

He also left his phone on airplane mode the entirety of the next day, only bothering to talk to Renjun in the dorms and Chenle during class; they were both more than satisfied with their respective roles and offered polite “You’ll get it next time”s to him, but not that they helped much, though he appreciated the gesture. 

“Donghyuck said you came third, behind him,” Renjun tentatively mentioned that evening. This was the only thing he’d heard even mentioning Donghyuck all day, and it somehow felt weird to not have talked to him or at least nagged at him. Not even a dorm visit, and he was only one flight of stairs away. Jeno raised an eyebrow, but gave minimal reaction to Renjun’s statement. 

“He was also wondering if you were still going to sectionals tomorrow.”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” he looked up. 

“How would I know? I’m just the messenger pigeon.”

“And how does he think he’s gonna get my answer?”

“I dunno,” Renjun shrugged. “I think he just wants to...show he cares, you know.” Jeno nodded, going back to typing out the essay, and turned up the volume of the white noise. 

  
  


To Renjun’s surprise, by the time he’d woken up the next day, there wasn’t a Jeno in sight, snoozing on his bed or lazily tapping away on his phone. Not that it mattered much or affected him in any way, but still; it was jarring to be awake and alone in their room. 

The first thing that greeted him was a reminder set on his phone: get notes from Donghyuck. The second thing was his absolute mop of hair staring right back at him in the bathroom mirror. 

“May as well go before lunch then,” Renjun said to himself, organising his thoughts and schedule for the day out loud. He normally did that, but quieter so as to not awaken Jeno. “Then sectionals...cool,” he shot a glance at his violin’s usual place under his desk, as if to check if it’d run away overnight. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it did…”

A little over fifteen minutes later, Renjun found himself knocking at the door of Donghyuck’s dorm room, only to be greeted by a rather unwanted face. 

“Morning, Renjun,” Jaemin rubbed his eyes sleepily and opened the door wider once he’d registered that it was indeed Renjun. Renjun, on the other hand, was frozen; he hadn’t quite anticipated _this._

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there like the fool you are?”

“Where’s Donghyuck?” he snapped out of his trance. 

“His sectionals, I think. His trumpet isn’t here so…”

“Damn,” he shifted his weight onto the other foot. “Well, I’ll be off then-”

“What did you need?” Jaemin leaned against the doorframe and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Just notes,” Renjun answered shortly. There was currently an internal brain battle in which one part of him wanted to jump out of the nearest window and another part wanted to stay for as long as possible. And both sides were fighting a losing battle. 

“Oh. I think he’ll be back in a bit though,” Jaemin stood up properly again and subconsciously held out a hand, inviting Renjun in. “You can wait here in the meantime.”

“No, I’d rather not _disturb_ you or anything-”

“What do I do in the mornings that isn’t usually ‘disturbed’ by you anyway?” Jaemin had the grace to chuckle at that, and someone else heading up the stairs forced Renjun inside. It was suddenly cricket silence, and Jaemin sighed. 

  
  


“And suddenly you’re here.”

“Against my will,” Renjun crossed his arms and refused to budge any further. 

“And yet.”

“And yet what?” Jaemin just shook his head, sitting against the wall on his bed and patting a spot next to him. 

“Maybe it’s about time we talked.”

“What is there to say?” Renjun walked over but only sat at the edge of the bed (against his will again, apparently). “I thought we were fine.”

“If we were fine, _you_ wouldn’t be sitting _there_ and _I_ wouldn’t be a metre away from you,” Jaemin reached out an arm lazily and raised an eyebrow. Renjun bounced himself lightly on the bed to test it- it was different from Jaemin’s old one for sure. For one, it didn’t creak as loudly, and whilst his old one was covered top to bottom in plushies, Jaemin had freed up most of the space now, and the plushies were nowhere in sight. But, Renjun noted, the one they’d won together at a christmas fair last year was sitting up against his desk- the humongous teddy bear. 

“Okay, so then,” he shuffled a little closer, and Jaemin looked at him pointedly. He sighed, and moved so that they were shoulder to shoulder, and Jaemin looked satisfied. 

“Now what.”

“Talk.”

“What is there to talk about?” Renjun spluttered in between laughs. “What do we even have in common anymore?” he asked as a half-joke, but the longer that question lingered, the more the inevitable answer became clear. 

“Well...we both know the same groups of friends.”

“Pft, some conversation topic,” Renjun muttered, but looked down again when he realised Jaemin really, just wanted to talk. Interact in some way that wasn’t empty bickering. So he shut up, and motioned for him to continue.

“We’re both acquainted with a certain Mark Lee-”

“Doesn’t he like you-”

“-who likes _you_ ,” they said over each other. Jaemin stared at him with pursed lips, a genuinely confused expression on his face. 

“ _No_ , he-” they both tried to say again, before bursting into laughter together, and just for a moment, it was like summer all over again. Jaemin stopped laughing first, and couldn’t help but take in how truly beautiful the melody of Renjun’s laugh was. 

“No but actually,” he finally stopped laughing and looked serious once more, and yet even though he physically hadn’t moved any closer, there was something so much more homely about his gaze. “That boy is whipped for _you_.”

“No you.”

“I disagree.”

“And so do I.”

“Who’s whipped for who? Gimme the tea.” Donghyuck had entered just then and swung his trumpet onto his bed. 

“Ah, finally,” Renjun got up. “Hand over the notes.”

“They’re on my laptop,” he pointed to his desk, specifically to a stack of papers with a bright pink post-it note stuck on that said “Renjun- just take it if you come here”.

“...oh.”

“Oh indeed,” Jaemin’s expression matched Renjun as they looked rather sheepishly to where Donghyuck was pointing to. 

“Anyway you scram. I got shit to do,” he led Renjun to the door, only allowing him to give Jaemin a wave goodbye. Just when he was about to close it, Renjun said in a low voice, 

“How was sectional?” He thought he could make out the traces of a wince at the mention of ‘sectional’. 

“Fine.”

“Are you and Jeno…?”

“We didn’t talk much.”

“But are you two…?” Donghyuck sighed. 

“We just need to distance ourselves a bit. It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” And the door closed. 

At every rehearsal and sectional, there was a tight thread of tension still lingering between Jeno and Donghyuck, though according to Jeno’s train of thought: you can’t be awkward if you just don’t talk. Which of course, was just to convince himself and he knew it. 

Donghyuck on the other hand, found himself making the library and practice rooms his second homes, and if Jeno did in fact come to visit frequently, he hadn’t noticed.

“One...two...three...wait what’s the meter?” he practiced counting the rests- something he could always afford to get better at. But tonight, his focus drifted every couple bars whether or not he was playing, and he’d either stop to make a note or nitpick about how stiff his valves were. 

Every so often, he’d also glance at his phone, expecting the screen to light up any minute. Nothing, after fifteen minutes. Still nothing, after half an hour. 

Sighing, he slumped in his chair and memories of that one night not so long ago came rushing back. Not that he was nearly as tired as he was then, but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a part of him that somehow felt guilty. Guilty for what? He thought, once again attempting to perfect this one phrase. You’re slipping back into your old habits, Donghyuck. 

No matter how loud he played, there was no way to drown that voice. 

And yet not even twenty minutes later, he found himself trudging up an extra floor and knocking on Jeno’s room door to hear more of it. He’d be proud. 

“Yeees?” Renjun poked his head around the door and opened it wider upon seeing Donghyuck’s pale face. “Oh, you.”

“Oh, me. Is Jeno here?”

“If he was, he would be hugging you right now.” Donghyuck gave him a side-glare as if to say ‘why are you so sure of that’, but allowed himself inside anyway. He dumped his trumpet under Jeno’s desk and sat on his chair. It was empty, and without the usual mess of papers and laptop sitting in the middle of the mess. So he had gone to the library…

“What brings you here?” Renjun settled back on his chair. His desk seemed a lot neater than how Jeno’s usually was, with pencils and pens actually stored away and papers in their orderly piles. Even his laptop charger was coiled away, whereas Jeno’s had knots for days and probably dust mites. Hence why Donghyuck always borrowed Mark’s charger. 

“The one inch of self control I seem to have,” he sighed, kicking at his trumpet case. No, he did not care about how many scratches it had at this point. “I have this habit of practicing way too late at ni-”

“Oh so Jaemin was waiting for _you_ the other day?” Renjun interrupted, sitting up suddenly before returning back to his normal relaxed position. “Sorry, go on.”

“It’s fine. And how did you know?”

“Do...do you not remember?” Donghyuck shook his head. 

“Not much. I remember someone was talking to him outside…” he tapped his fingers on the desk. “...but not much else. If I had continued in there today it would’ve been that all over again,” he took a flick at one of Jeno’s pens he’d left on the desk. It went flying onto the floor. 

“Exhaustion?”

“I wouldn’t call it that per se, but okay.” 

They sat in the low light, silent, before Renjun turned to look at his violin, stowed next to his bed. 

“Kinda reminds me of this time back in middle school.”

“Spill,” Donghyuck moved the chair closer to Renjun’s. Perhaps Jeno would come back and he wouldn’t have to bring himself all the way to the library at half past eleven in the night. Renjun repositioned himself, crossing a leg over the other.

“You know Chenle? Why am I saying that like a question, you very obviously know Chenle. Probably love him too. Well anyway, we grew up together, him starting on piano about the same time I started on violin, when we were maybe 5? 4? Babies, basically. We performed together many a time, especially for those random assemblies in primary school. I don’t wanna bore you, but the general gist is that we were both deemed exceptionally good for our age. That’s apparently aged well now,” he stopped to nod in satisfaction. 

Donghyuck’s eyes began to droop off, until he thought he heard the door open and perked up immediately to Renjun’s confusion. The door in fact, had not opened and there was still no Jeno, or even the ghost of him that seemed to haunt Donghyuck more and more these days. 

“But around the time we entered middle school- it’s kind of a repressed memory for the both of us so I don’t know the year or whatever- the opposite of what’s happening to you, happened to Chenle. Like a slump. You feel completely unmotivated to do the thing you really love to do and in Chenle’s case, he doubted himself a lot. ‘Am I getting the recognition I deserve? Do I genuinely even like this anymore then, if I don’t? What happens if I quit?’ I remember him gushing about these to me one holiday, after he’d been forced to practice by his parents and meanwhile I was let free because I already finished the hours I needed to that day. 

It was only when he fell fairly ill a while later that he was allowed a break, and the doctors said that major stress really wasn’t helping him recover. It was at this time that we- Jaemin and I- spent a lot of time with him.

Once he recovered- as you can tell, I’m greatly simplifying the story- it wasn’t long until he was back to normal. But still, it was a rather dark period of our lives, which is why it’s repressed,” Renjun finished off with an exaggerated smile, and laughed at Donghyuck still starting to doze off. 

“I’ll leave the follow up story for another time then, you go find Jeno.”

“No, no he can wait,” Donghyuck yawned but waved a hand at him to continue. He _could_ wait, but whether he actually _was,_ was a whole other question in which Donghyuck almost didn’t want to find out the answer to. 

“Okay, well...I think it was around high school- again, repressed memory- that we were both starting to gain some traction, and there was just one day that I fainted before going up, which never happened. I still kinda regret that day because it for sure influenced both of our performances. I thought it was a one off event, but then before our next performance Chenle noticed I started to shake really badly- I was that nervous. Similar things happened the next couple times, before and after, and we concluded I’d developed stage fright. Honestly, sometimes I still get hints of it now, but it’s not nearly as bad as it used to be, thanks to Chenle,” he sat back, lips pursed in deep reflection. Donghyuck didn’t exactly know how to respond to it, except to offer an acknowledging smile. 

“Right, I’ve definitely bore you enough by now,” Renjun stood up suddenly, pacing aimlessly around the beds and then to the door. He opened it and motioned Donghyuck through. 

“I believe you have some other business to attend to now.” 

He’d done it many times by now, but crossing campus in the dead of night was always unnerving. Lamps following your every move meanwhile bushes that you swear move when you’re not looking at them...walking across campus alone and drunk was a stupid move, as Donghyuck had learnt the hard way last year. So, it was smart of him to hurry to the library, without taking the sketchy shortcut that went around the back. The path was very very worn, but narrow and blocked off (though of course that didn’t stop anyone from using it). 

“Jeno…” he pushed the glass door of the study room open. Jeno had been fixated on his laptop screen for the past couple minutes, never scrolling or taking his eyes off of it, and he pretended to not hear Donghyuck entering and sitting beside him. He lay his head on the desk, on top of Jeno’s stack of folders. 

“Ohh Jenooo,” he said again, louder, but with a hint of a smile that Jeno just couldn’t bring his midnight brain to refuse. 

“Hi.” And suddenly they were face to face again. 

A couple seconds passed of them observing each other’s faces; searching for invisible hostility, taking in the fact that they hadn’t actually looked at each other- at least like this- in a week, processing what an absurd situation they’d gotten themselves into. Until Donghyuck shifted his face away a bit in fake disgust, making Jeno huff in amusement. He shook his head, almost as if trying to tell himself to concentrate back on his screen. 

“Hey.” Donghyuck’s smile started to grow, which honestly took all the energy he had left, but if he was going to spend it on smiling at Jeno then so be it. 

“So we haven’t talked in a while.”

“A while as in like a week, but yeah,” Jeno muttered. What a long, long week. Necessary, but long all the same. 

“Do you feel like doing it now?”

“Not particularly.”

“That’s okay then.” Simply being next to each other again spoke a thousand words anyway. Words of comfort, annoyance, understanding. 

“Do you?” Jeno breathed. “You talk a lot. I assume you like doing it.”

“And you’d be correct. Do you still wanna listen to me?” Donghyuck asked, a hint of skepticism lacing his words. It was then pushed aside when he felt the gentle touch of a hand around one of his outstretched fingers, and a tired smile. Strangely, both were melting his mind into a puddle of helplessness.

“I mean, yeah. But do you really want to?” 

“Well you see, there are many things I could _potentially_ talk about…” Donghyuck sat up, but was careful to not unlatch their fingers. “How much my cheeks are still aching...whatever the hell is happening with Mark, Renjun and Jaemin...how _fucking_ annoying you are sometimes…the list goes on.”

“That second one sounds interesting,” Jeno said, still maintaining a smile despite knowing exactly what was coming for him. 

“Too bad! Because I’m gonna talk about the last one.” There it was. “Firstly, are you aware of it?” Donghyuck held out a fist pretending it was a microphone for him to speak into. Jeno mock-thought for a second- in reality processing how much he missed _this_ \- before answering,

“Oh, all too well I think.”

“What a great start then! Secondly, how do _you_ think you’re annoying?” the ‘microphone’ was handed to him again, and this time Jeno actually thought.

“Well...I’m kinda shit at communication? I’m competitive for no reason? Hmm...I just give off annoying vibes? What else is there-” 

“Okay great! Thirdly, would you like to hear my reasoning?” Jeno shrugged. 

“Sure. Hit me.” Donghyuck took away his microphone and lay his head on the desk again, suddenly subdued. 

“For one, you’re _annoyingly_ good at being you without trying. Like, I would never be able to reach that level. Miles out of anyone’s league. Fucking _annoying_ . Then, you somehow complement me- Lee Donghyuck- frustratingly well. No sugar coating, no batting around the bush; you somehow just know how to say what you mean, sometimes without saying anything. Also, fucking annoying. And _then_ …” he stopped for a yawn and peered at Jeno to make sure he was still paying attention. 

Which of course, he was. Because that’s Jeno. 

“And then! You know the life skill of self-preservation apparently. What are you, a fucking wizard? Who just, _knows_ that when they’re in college? And you care to share it too! Wow! I-” Donghyuck huffed and slumped hard at the back of the chair, casting an exasperated side glance at Jeno. He merely gave his usual eye smile and let go of his hand to sling his arm around his shoulders instead, playing with the hair covering the back of his neck. _Hm._

“In conclusion: you’re very annoying sometimes Jeno,” was all Donghyuck could bring himself to say at this point. Jeno nodded in contemplation. 

“Thank you. In that case, you are too.” 

“Oh my god.” Donghyuck collapsed back onto the pile of books and forced his eyes closed. The regular ticks of Jeno’s watch on the table seemed to mimic a time bomb. Counting down to what? He didn’t care. 

It wasn’t long after that when Jeno watched him drift to sleep with the occasional eye twitch and his hand still resting on the back of his neck. 

He turned those words over and over quietly, by now his laptop in the same state of Donghyuck: sleeping. He searched for anything that didn’t scream exactly what he wanted- needed- to hear.

And it was in a library study room at 1am, when he realised why Mark had been so nervous to talk about this kind of love.


	4. Chapter 4

“I mean, it’ll be fun I guess,” Renjun replied Mark with a timid smile. Donghyuck pointed at them from behind the grand piano, not-so subtly glancing between them and Jeno oiling his tuning slide. 

“Ow, what was that for-” he glared at Donghyuck but stopped once he followed his finger. “Huh. Well.”

“Do you think…?”

“Indeed I think,” Jeno stated, holding back a giggle. Donghyuck rolled his eyes, standing up with his trumpet ready. 

“Thanks for the input. Now do you think _that_ …? He thrusted his chin comically in the direction of where Mark and Renjun appeared to still be talking, or rather: Mark looking at him with a giddy smile and Renjun obliviously explaining something on his instrument. 

“What a fool,” the trumpeters said in unison, and Donghyuck promptly cracked up, trailing behind Jeno as they walked over to their usual places. How he still had the energy today to wake up at his usual time and turn up to a morning practice on time with him, was beyond Jeno. But all the same, despite this being the first practice since the election results were announced, he’d still enthusiastically turned up that morning, knocking his door down. 

“Jesus christ Donghyuck,” he snapped out of his little bubble when the person in question brought out a bunch of loose papers, crumpled and with many many pencil marks scrawled across them. Donghyuck placed the sheets onto their usual shaky music stand. “Everytime I see your copy of the scores they get less and less legible.”

“And?” he scrunched his nose cutely at Jeno and although not a single trace of emotion reached his face, he swore something deep in his chest jumped. 

“It’s messy. In a good way,” Jeno quickly added after so as to not make it seem as if he was criticizing Donghyuck’s...art. Art consisting of arrows, labels, circles...a fucking tree drawn at the corner of the page? Also a cake. But the cake had been there since the beginning of term, although now it had a smiley face on it. How the fuck did Jeno know this?

“Of course. I don’t see _your_ scores being nearly as pretty as mine,” Donghyuck pointed out. “See? Boring,” he dragged out the last syllable and leaned close into his face. A sharp tingle spread from Jeno’s nose and wrapped around his back, and though he didn’t move away, something told him to close his eyes. 

“Like, shit gets boring to look at for hours at a time-” Donghyuck continued, bitterly sweet breath brushing over him. Jeno nearly regretted opening his eyes again- only to see him sitting up properly again and showing him his other doodled scores. What wishful thinking. 

“Well, if you had listened to me, you wouldn’t have to be looking at them for so damn long,” he retorted as a gut reaction. 

“Yeah yeah _yeah_ yeah, you broken record,” Donghyuck was good-natured this time, however. He grinned, a beautiful grin.

The next month was soon a week and then days and then hours. Or more precisely: exams and the concert were now way too close for anyone’s likings. 

Donghyuck had fallen into a newer routine now, no longer in isolation and instead consisted of but was not limited to: study, practice, sleep, eat. He wasn’t particularly proud to say that it was mainly the latter two, but it kept Mark and Jeno’s endless nagging at bay so apparently it would have to do for the time being. 

In fact, it kind of went both/all ways in a cycle of “go and sleep”, “no you”, an “you can’t tell me what to do” before the person would inevitably give in. Almost like highschool all over again. 

“You ever miss it?” Jeno asked him one evening over a warm bowl of ramen and books stacked ever high on his desk. Donghyuck was sitting on the floor, slender legs stretched out behind him and his own empty bowl sitting next to an open laptop. 

“You mean the fucking tiny workload? Hell yeah I miss _that_ ,” he barely glanced up at him. “So naive and tiny.”

“Us or the workload?”

“Both.” Jeno scrolled through his gallery- he swore those photos were here somewhere. And if not, he honestly wouldn’t blame himself for deleting them somehow. 

But only a minute later, his phone was being held in Donghyuck’s face: a photo of him, Mark and Jeno grinning wildly in a blurry selfie. Bedraggled hair, little peace signs and absolute shit lighting. Donghyuck gave a small wheeze and pushed the phone back in his direction. 

“Any better ones?”

“Probably not.” If by better, he’d meant actually non-blurry pictures of them on a class overseas trip, then Jeno was correct. 

He stared at this photo for a bit, a couple memories trickling their way back but it felt more like a fever dream than the past. His eyes fell on Donghyuck, and another boy his right arm was casually slung over, both of them squinting into the camera. Jeno was next to him, and Mark wasn’t even in the photo for whatever reason he’d forgotten (he later remembered that night that the photo was taken when Mark got food poisoning, and they had been roommates at their accommodation. Needless to say, that night had been a sleepless one for Jeno). 

A pang of something hit him right there and then, still resting his eyes on Donghyuck and this forgotten boy. Call it nostalgia, jealousy. The only thing Jeno could recollect from him was they had dated for some time. Perhaps a month or two, or whatever the standard duration of a highschool relationship had been. This hadn’t been Donghyuck's only relationship then either, but Jeno honestly forgot who else he’d dated back then. Another guy perhaps, probably a girl or two...he had been the anomaly from their little group. Still kind of was, in that aspect.

“You remember this dude?” he showed the phone again, zoomed in on them, and Donghyuck moved it away again, this time without even a smile. 

“Huh. Why do you still have that?”

“I don’t know. That trip was kinda fun though,” he took it back and continued to study the image. How was that teacher doing now?

“Ah, highschool sweethearts,” Donghyuck sighed, and nothing else was said. Jeno shrugged, and pressed ‘delete image’. Then went to his trash and deleted it from there too. Gone were those days. Gone, done and dusted. 

It wasn’t too rare to have these dinner study evenings together, usually with Mark or Renjun these days (“but who knows where they were today”, they’d joked after ordering their food after making sure it was only for two). 

“What’s the transposition for sax?” he asked a couple minutes after his last slurp. Donghyuck craned his head up at Jeno’s screen, however his eyesight failing him. 

“Tenor or alto?”

“Uh. Alto.”

“E flat so...down. Three semitones I think. You’re welcome,” Donghyuck answered almost reluctantly. Maybe he didn’t miss music theory as much as he thought.

“God, I hate saxophones.” There was a sigh and scritch-scratching of paper. “Can’t believe you’re still better than me at this,” Jeno muttered under his breath, half-jokingly. Half, because it was a shared inside joke that Donghyuck’s mum had persuaded (forced) him to go into business instead of pursue music, as it was a quote unquote, ‘more stable money maker’. 

Which...was unfortunately a fact, but it didn’t stop Donghyuck from cutting off contact from her for the first months of being a freshman. It wasn’t like he was bad at business either- quite the opposite- just that sometimes he really wished he could say fuck it. 

He chuckled. 

“You and me both.”

“I hate transposing.”

“Again, you and me both.”

“Yes, but is it part of a final project? I didn’t think so,” Jeno sulked, downing his third cup of juice that night. “Ugh.” 

A soft thump landed on his feet then, and when he looked behind him, Donghyuck was hugging a pillow. Jeno’s (unmade) bed now had a grand total of one pillow lying dejectedly at its foot, and he grabbed it to throw right back at him. Boop, right in the face. He turned back around to his screen immediately, anticipating the predictable impact to his back a couple seconds later. 

“Wow, you’re such an easy target,” Donghyuck flung the hugging pillow at him again when he turned around again. Stomach. 

“But who has the higher ground?” Jeno threw them back. “Me.” Thank god the bowls and cups were now empty. 

Some more tosses and contained screams later, and Renjun opened the door before immediately backing out. 

“Mine too? Really?” he asked over them, gesturing to his empty bed. A total of eight pillows now surrounded Donghyuck in a mini fortress and Jeno was holding a ninth in his clutches. 

“Hey Renjun!” Donghyuck called out and collapsed straight after, cradling his arm. He rolled around a bit whilst Jeno pointed and laughed (on the verge from abandoning sitting on a chair now) and Renjun closed the door. He heard a muffled cry from probably Jeno as he headed back in the direction he came. Some _study_ date. But a date all the same? Jeno thought. 

What wishful thinking. 

“God fucking damnit,” Renjun opened Jaemin’s room door only to find Mark sitting on the bed with him, huddled around a laptop and with snacks in between them. Jaemin beckoned him over, throwing a piece of candy to him (which of course, Renjun didn’t catch). Meanwhile Mark had sat up and stopped mid-chew. 

“Here too?”

“Deal with it babe,” Jaemin made room for him to sit on his other side, but he instead opted for the beanbag by his bedside table. 

“Aren’t you usually with Jeno and Donghyuck around this time, Mark?” Renjun pointed above them. 

“U-uh, well-”

“I was helping him with some bits of revision,” Jaemin said smoothly, what was presumably a movie still playing from the laptop. Renjun nodded towards it. 

“Revision, huh.”

“Revision, yes,” Mark beamed. So did Jaemin. And they both looked to Renjun. God.

Pillow fight over and phones saying sixteen past midnight, all the work they’d aimed to do was mostly done for now. Or rather, Donghyuck insisted there was a time and place for everything, and according to him, sixteen past midnight in Jeno’s dorm room was not it. According to him. 

“It’s weird how you’re either ‘gotta finish this all now’ or ‘how about no’,” Jeno commented, still working out what fucking chord that was from an audio file. There wasn’t a day that passed when he didn’t envy those with perfect pitch. 

“Yeah, well. Depends. Of course I’m gonna be ‘how about no’ for _business_ ,” he rolled his eyes, sprawling over Jeno’s bed, not unlike the way a cat would. 

“That’s literally your major.”

“Okay, and?” Jeno shut the file, now figuring it would be probably more accurate to guess what he was hearing. “Oh, finally. Don’t need to keep hearing that neapolitan sixth.”

“You fuck-” Jeno re-opened the file and played it again. And twice for good measure. Donghyuck was correct. 

“This sucks. This sucks and I hate it,” he wrote it down and shut his laptop once and for all. 

“You couldn’t even have at least minored in music?”

“Nope,” Donghyuck was trying to contort his body into what seemed like a pretzel, and nearly knocked out Jeno when he lost balance. “No such thing.”

“So then why did she make you take all those lessons? Spend all that money?”

“Does it look like I know?”

“Yes,” Jeno said, deadpan. 

“Well I don’t, and I probably never will,” Donghyuck said lightly. He’d presumably gotten tired and was now taking up way too much space on Jeno’s bed. All the same, he slid in beside him and turned off the bedside lamp; they’d have to make it work apparently. 

“You staying?”

“Hm.” 

Sugary breath spread from the back of Jeno’s neck as Donghyuck made himself comfortable, and arms slithered around his waist, pulling him ever close. He yawned loudly and wriggled them looser, but that just made a leg slide over his own. Oh Donghyuck, don’t you ever think about the consequences of your actions?

“Move...please…” he strained, dropping his phone to the floor (probably earning it yet another crack) and peeled the arms off so at least he could breathe. 

Physically, at least. Mentally, he’d suffocate for all he cared. 

Typical green room chaos was currently ensuing; unnecessary loud blasting of _some certain brass instruments_ , a ragtime running wild on the piano and shouts of ‘watch where you’re fucking stepping!’. Others were attempting to peacefully warm up and tune before succumbing to the mayhem, some still running around looking for a tie...the usual hubbub of pre-concert anticipation. 

“This is fine,” Jeno robotically smiled. He and Donghyuck were sitting in a corner, having warmed up sufficiently and given their obligatory _loud blasts,_ to Mark and Renjun’s exasperation. Donghyuck was still working on dragging them over, cradling his trumpet in his lap and occasionally threatening to hit them on the head with it (he came close to it and Renjun subsequently attempted to chase him outside the room. It failed only because there was a stupid line of cases blocking the door). So yes, this was fine. 

Donghyuck eventually gave up. 

“This is fine,” he repeated. Just then, a fairly tall figure hovered over them, his own shining trumpet in hand. The pair immediately stood up and gave a shallow bow. 

“I’m sure you two will do great this evening,” Jungwoo’s soft voice came- rather unusual that he would come give a second pep talk right before the concert, Jeno thought. His other hand held the scores for the solo trumpet parts, and they both eyed it warily. 

“And to you too,” Jeno regained composure first. 

“You’ve always been great,” Donghyuck added, genuinely soothing to his tight, strained smile. 

“Aw, thank you.” They continued the small talk for a minute or two more, before Jungwoo moved on to talk with Renjun. You know, just soloist things. 

“Can’t relate.”

“You can say that again,” Jeno slumped back as well, now a bag of nerves and pizza he’d consumed a couple hours ago. 

Some other arbitrary person walked into the room just then and barked at them to stand by, and some organisation came from the chaos. Soon, the room had transformed into semi-neat rows and hushed whispers. And someone apparently still looking for a tie. God damnit Hyunjin. 

“A shame, really. Not that I have anything against Jungwoo of course, but…” Donghyuck was still murmuring under his breath in Jeno’s general direction.

“Yeah. We could’ve been up there,” Jeno nodded to a couple places in front of them. 

“We?”

“Well, if I were in that position you’d be right next to me by default.” Commotion on the other side of the door seemed to calm down. It was soon. 

Donghyuck slid his back down the wall.

“Same for me.” He stuck a pinkie out to Jeno, who looked at it blankly. A fist met his stomach as Donghyuck continued to hold it out, waiting. The front lines started to shift. 

“Promise that.”

“Like, for next year or-”

“Promise that.” There was something mock-pleading about his expression, yet he spoke dead-seriously. Jeno hooked their fingers together, also pressing their thumbs for good measure. 

“Promise, then.” Pause. 

“Let’s move then! Break a leg everyone!” 

Concerts usually went by in a flash of spotlights and this one was no exception. All Jeno remembered most of the time was going on and going off. The in-between was simply...a passage of time. 

Red curtain drawn as they seated themselves, made final re-adjustments to garments, and silence on the other side. Pin drop silence. Unnerving, and yet oddly rejuvenating. Then the curtain revealed the audience, they played for who knows how long, and then applause. Maybe an encore, more applause, and it was all over. The night passed and the curtain was drawn once again. 

Flurries of muttering along the corridor on the way back to the green room soon crescendoed into chaos again. 

“That was good,” Donghyuck sighed in contentment, snapping his case shut satisfyingly. “That was quite good.”

“Could’ve been better,” Jeno shrugged. He roughly shoved his tie inside the case. Out in the corner of his eye, he thought he could make out a very cheerful Jaemin enveloping Renjun, Chenle and Mark in a hug, whilst two other people stood by, also cheerful by the looks of it. He could only recognise one of them, but the other one seemed to also notice him, and his eyes widened. Donghyuck followed his gaze and also perked up, picking up his case and started to step around the others lying on the floor. Jeno followed, suspiciously. There was definitely _something_ about this person that he recognised, but he couldn’t quite place what. Maybe the eyes? Face in general? Hair? No, he’s never known someone with blue hair…

“Yangyang?” A microwave ding went off in his head as soon as Donghyuck said that. Yangyang; no wonder he looked oddly familiar. Had it been really that long since middle school?

“Donghyuck! Jeno!” He hugged them warmly, Jaemin still chattering away right next to them. 

“Why are you here?” Donghyuck asked for both of them, Jeno still in quite a daze with one hand carrying his trumpet, the other on Donghyuck’s sleeve. 

“I went to high school with these guys,” Yangyang nodded at Jaemin and the others. “Kept in contact, decided to come see them today. I didn't even know you two continued with trumpet.” 

“You know Mark too?” Jeno finally spoke. By now, the room was starting to empty person by person and the background noise was at least manageable now. 

“Vaguely. Jaemin and Renjun told me about him,” he explained, “-among other things.” They stood in silence, Mark beside them collapsing with laughter, and Jeno shuffled his feet. 

“So what have you been doing these days? Anything particularly interesting?” Donghyuck politely attempted to continue the conversation, to Jeno’s relief. He and Yangyang chatted amicably, him occasionally offering extra information, before Renjun had turned to them, clearly anxious to get going now. A cleaner had entered the now empty hall, and crickets were chirping outside the exit. 

“Good luck you two! Maybe we could meet up properly some other time,” Yangyang smiled, being tugged along by Renjun (who to be fair, they had already exchanged their reviews on the concerts with). Mark was right behind him, followed by Jaemin _still_ talking with Chenle and Jisung about god knows what at this point. 

“Yeah, properly!” Jeno called behind them, but they’d already started to recede around the corner. The evening breeze sighed along with them, as Donghyuck dragged him out, saying something along the lines of going to town, and would he care for a drinking night?

After a quick room stop to drop their instruments off and change attire, it was flashing pedestrian lights and neon signs. Donghyuck had emerged in sweatpants and hoodie, looking even cosier than usual despite the fact that they wouldn’t be staying in tonight. It’s all I could grab last minute because I know how fast you change, he’d explained, and brushed it off when Jeno pointed out his retouched makeup. 

“You’re not looking too shabby yourself,” he moved on, studying Jeno head to toe, although there wasn’t very much to study; he’d just thrown on a sweater and skinny jeans. Both black, both fairly tight fitting. Jeno looked over himself too, holding onto the handrails of the bus. At this hour, it wasn’t full by any means but standing up (aside from losing balance at every turn) always seemed to feel morally better. There was a soft weight on his shoulder as they passed a turn just then- Donghyuck staggered a bit, met his eye and gave him a look as if to say “Yes, and?” 

He smiled, resting his head on top as the blaring lights passed them by. 

It wasn’t much longer when a slightly tipsy Jeno found himself laying his head on a table, fondly gazing at a drunk and having-the-time-of-his-life Donghyuck. He still hadn’t gotten used to this; the racing heartbeat, that annoying red flush that he just crossed his fingers Donghyuck didn’t notice every time he’d leaned in close as if to whisper a dark secret...but at least he sort of had an excuse tonight. 

Donghyuck himself had committed most conscious things to his subconscious, which wasn’t too hard. Act then think- then perhaps regret- though he doubted Jeno would ever let him get that far in this state. 

“...So then, I fucking,” he made a wild arm gesture that somewhat symbolised a punch,“- _clocked_ that bitch over, you know, like-” Jeno immediately reached over and lowered his arm. Whether or not he was recalling a dream or a real-life event (he could not remember and both seemed feasible), doing that with glass full to its brim in front of him, didn’t seem the smartest choice.

“Maybe we should leave soon…” Jeno muttered, still gripping firmly onto Donghyuck as he rambled on with his heroic fighting story. A crowd had been trickling its way in for the past hour or so- or was it two? In any case, it had grown truly dark by this time, with a fine drizzle starting to set in, perhaps on the outskirts of an overnight storm. 

“You want to leave?” Donghyuck stopped himself mid-rant, his eyes flicking down to Jeno’s hand wandering to his own down from his arm. All of a sudden he became hyper aware of his touch specifically- thumb fidgeting with his rings and rough palm brushing over his fingertips. A hardened spot on the inner side of his pinkie from being hooked onto the finger ring of his trumpet.

He blinked once, twice, three times.

“You want to leave?” he repeated, louder, before letting the contents of the last glass slide down his throat, now numb to the burn. A shudder coursed up his arm as Jeno made to get up, slipping their fingers together. “You wanna go back?” Hiccup. 

“Nah. Just maybe...walk around a bit. Then go back.”

By the time they exited, the drizzle had become spits from the sky, which didn’t help Jeno’s loss of warmth next to him when they’d gotten separated wiggling through the crowd. But Donghyuck was in high spirits, and ran right ahead to the riverside decks. 

“So what’s the end of that story?” Jeno huffed once he’d caught up to him. They were now strolling aimlessly, the sky starting to open up a gaping hole and street lamps flickering like candlelight. Donghyuck looked at him blankly. 

“What story?”

“That story. Dream. Thing. You didn’t finish it.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” he stuck his hands in his pocket, savouring the clacking of their soles against the wooden boards. At this point, his mind had started to clear more into a thin mist than the fog it was before inside the bar, and the chill hit him in a wave. Donghyuck on the other hand, was still fairly on the intoxicated side, but not to the point of stumbling every other step. Though, he was definitely hiccuping. 

“Aren’t you happy?” Donghyuck suddenly said. He swung the hood onto his head and fumbling, tried to tie up the strings. Eventually it got so tragic that they had to stop whilst Jeno did it for him. “Hand-eye coordination isn’t my strong suit, okay.” 

“You know I don’t like to drink much,” he brushed off the second comment. _It also wouldn’t be smart to trust a drunk me in company with my best friend/rival who I’m apparently also in love with. Stellar._ A neat bow hung from Donghyuck’s chin. 

“No, I’m asking if you’re happy,” he slapped Jeno’s back. “I think you should be.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m here so why shouldn’t you be? Ow, I’m sorry I’m sorry-” he continued over exaggerating begging for his life whilst Jeno squeezed said life out via his hands. “Okay? Okay, thank you. Now. Question.”

“I guess so,” Jeno hung his head, watching their feet match in step, Donghyuck’s occasionally stepping into a puddle. He didn’t seem to notice although sometimes the water would splash onto his socks. 

The rest of the promenade was hushed now, almost silent, with a distant buzz of the actual town centre buildings and other conversations. 

Donghyuck slapped his back again, bringing him back to his senses- it was funny how much his mind wandered even when he was perfectly sober. Another slap, then arm awkwardly sliding down to snake around his waist almost as if they were doing a three legged race. Plop, as he stepped into another puddle. 

“You’re quiet today.”

“Mhm.” Jeno didn’t bother removing his arm, no matter how uncomfortable it was for both of them to walk now. The weight there was oddly comforting anyway. 

“Finally some peace and quiet. No, no please I- _youch_!” Donghyuck tugged his hand free from Jeno’s and shook it in an attempt to re-revive it. He cradled it, “Temperamental tonight I see.” 

“Huh. Maybe.” They continued walking- mostly silent- still aimless but no longer literally connected by the hip. Metaphorically, they'd been doing this song and dance since middle school. 

Occasionally water would sprinkle on them from a passing car, and by the time they’d reached the end of the boardwalk, Donghyuck’s hoodie was speckled. But he didn’t seem to care, immediately swivelling and heading back the way they came. Jeno followed. 

“It’s cold. It’s cold and it kinda sucks,” Donghyuck muttered to no one in particular. Now he was more subdued, the tensions wearing away and also staring at the ground. Their shoulders bumped. 

“And do you expect me to control the weather?” Jeno took a dig at him, a playful smile and gleaming eyes. Hopeful, in a sense. 

“Yeah. That would be real cool of you,” he turned his head to the heavens, letting the water wash down his cheek and droplets catching on his eyelashes. “Make it warmer.”

“Sure but it’ll only take effect in the morni-” Jeno’s breath hitched as suddenly an arm was looped onto his and hair was tickling his cheek. Donghyuck’s giggles escalated, slowly becoming tinkly hysterics that seemed to reverberate through the river, the clouds, and the ground. 

“You did it, what a weather god,” he cried. “ _So_ fucking annoying.”

It was around 3am when they both stumbled into Jeno's dorm, but they wouldn't know that. A very annoyed Renjun stirred under his blankets, stared at the both of them clambering to the bathroom, and promptly lay back down. 

“If y’all could at least try and be quiet, that would be great,” he called in a groggy voice and was met with a “yes boss” from Donghyuck and shortly after a “sure thing boss” from Jeno. There was some crashing of various bottles, running water and choruses of strangled echoey laughter, to which Renjun sighed and slapped a pillow over his ears. 

Maybe twenty minutes later, they emerged, Donghyuck with a towel around his waist and Jeno re-wearing what he’d gone out in, both with hair ruffled as dry as possible. He rummaged through his closet, tossing shorts and a t-shirt way too big for Donghyuck onto the bed. By now after being forced to finish the water bottle kept on Jeno’s bedside table- even he didn’t know how long it had been there untouched- his mind was losing its spinning momentum. Reluctantly, he pulled on whatever clothes Jeno had thrown to him, and snuggled into his pillow. Vaguely citrusy and soapy scents always lingered on it from past experience, but tonight it became ever-more apparent. The blankets he’d also once complained were too thin, made up for it in warmth and softness somehow. Almost like getting an actual hug from him. 

So as to not wake Renjun (mission failed, but they were willing to live in blissful ignorance) all lights had stayed off other than Jeno’s phone screen, which he figured was dim enough. So he sat on the end of his bed, Donghyuck’s foot wiggling to the rhythm of, if he wasn’t wrong, one of the pieces they had performed just now. 

Today. Yesterday. Same thing. 

He purposely lay down right over his feet, phone thrown aside and probably earning its thousandth crack, whilst Donghyuck suddenly jolted up from that. Renjun stirred again. 

“You realise we have that after-party thing later today? Get some sleep,” he complained, and turned to face the wall. They stared at each other before Donghyuck sighed, throwing himself back on the pillow. 

“Well, shit.”

“Indeed well shit,” Jeno murmured, re-positioning himself to be lying next to him, except as usual, squishing him to the wall. “This is your fault.”

“You never had to agree to do this,” Donghyuck attempted to whisper, but it came out more like a weak growl from a puppy who had never growled before. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, louder and now more like a weak growl from a puppy who had growled only once before. 

Jeno muttered something unintelligible in reply, and they lay in silence, staring at the ceiling. Fireworks of cracks in the paint, that Donghyuck reached out to trace as if he was actually touching them. Meanwhile, Jeno’s back was rising and falling in adagio, probably on the verge of drifting asleep. And well, Donghyuck lived to cause problems on purpose. 

“Isn’t it funny?” he whispered, eyes still focused on the ceiling even in the darkness. 

“What is…” Jeno grumbled, unmoving and voice muffled. Unnerving in a way, as it seemed to come out of nowhere. Donghyuck almost wondered if he really was just speaking out loud to the voice in his head. 

“How we spent all that energy avoiding each other and being all salty and in the end neither of us got anything out of it?”

“Define anything.” Now Jeno turned, flipping so that he was facing Donghyuck who was still lying on his back. But his eyes remained closed. Donghyuck’s arm was still outstretched, now focused on the ceiling light and rotating his hand like he was unscrewing it from afar. The afterglow of it had long worn off, but if he concentrated enough, it relit. 

“Anything like...anything. Worthwhile.”

“Huh,” Jeno hummed. Of course, there was a _small_ something he’d gotten out of it. But Donghyuck wouldn’t know. And he was too tired to elaborate. Luckily, he didn’t ask, going on to say, 

“Just a lil’ thought I had. But I’m talking to myself, aren’t I?” he giggled. This time Jeno didn’t even bother to respond, his exhalations scraping against the exposed skin around Donghyuck’s collarbone. He turned back to the ceiling, back to tracing out new pathways, eyes slowly drooping and chest soon synchronising with Jeno’s. 

“Yeah. I’m talking to myself,” he barely whispered, and placed a silent kiss on his crown. Jeno didn’t move. 

  
  


In the span of a day, the practice hall had transformed into a foyer of sorts- chairs and stands stacked in closed cupboards and tables lining the perimeter filled with food and drinks. On the occasions that this happened, you could split the orchestra into three factions: those who mingled with anyone and everyone, those who stuck to stuffing their faces, and those who didn’t even bother turning up. And then Donghyuck trying ever-so hard to not shoot daggers at the conductor every time he came around to talk to each little group, of course with Jeno glued to his side and Mark lingering not so far away with Renjun and Chenle.

“Thank fuck that’s done,” he grumbled before popping his tenth biscuit in his mouth. Jeno stood by, his gaze following the conductor who’d walked over to Mark now. Renjun was also busy on the side accepting any and all bits of complaints and compliments. 

“You’re crazy.” 

“You clearly haven’t had a lengthy conversation with Jaemin.” 

“Uh, sorry you two,” Jungwoo’s voice came from behind him. He wore a courteous smile, but makeup was so very obviously attempting to cover up puffy eyes. Donghyuck immediately softened at this. 

“This is probably weird and sudden for you,” he quickly continued before either of them could greet him properly. They exchanged questioning side-glances. “-but for...personal reasons...I have to leave orchestra. And my position.” 

Jeno’s eyebrows raised at that, not quite sure whether to take this seriously or to suspect this as another one of his jokes. On the other hand, the cogs in Donghyuck’s mind were already piecing the puzzle together, suddenly shot with adrenaline. The pang of slight guilt and disappointment kicked in soon after, but wasn’t nearly as strong. 

“So,” Jungwoo continued, “I’d like to hand over first chair to either one of you. Sir told me to let you decide amongst yourselves, since there wasn’t much difference in the election results. So...”

“ _So,_ ” Donghyuck echoed, restraining himself from emphasising it too much. Jeno was still a statue next to him. 

“So just...let him know after exam season. And good luck on your exams too!” he finished off with a rather strained smile, though not forced. 

“U-uh you too,” Jeno stammered eventually, reaching over as subtly as possible and stepping on his foot as Jungwoo grabbed a biscuit from the tray behind them and beelined to the other side of the hall. They both stood in silence, Donghyuck silently chewing, not budging until Jeno released his foot. Chenle nudged him just then, joining their mini circle; it would seem that he’d gotten bored of Mark and Renjun’s shenanigans.

“What was that about?” he pointed to where Jungwoo was now, surrounded by some older students and laughing along with them. 

“It’s compli-”

“Oh my god,” Donghyuck interrupted him, voice shaky. Jeno stepped on his foot again. 

“Save it.” 

Chenle glanced between them: Donghyuck not even trying to wiggle free, mouth always about to utter something but never making it past a word and Jeno looking at him with an indifference that soon collapsed into a playful smile. Renjun snorted with laughter in the background. 

“...Have you heard the pieces sir is planning for next semester then?”

To his own surprise, Jeno didn’t find himself thinking about that shining opportunity for the next couple weeks, and it remained more of something unspoken between the two of them throughout their countless study sessions and lunch ‘dates’ (he skeptically called them). 

At this point, it was common sense that Renjun and Jaemin were together again. What else could Donghyuck call it when Jaemin was consistently waiting at their lecture hall door five minutes before it ended, then smothering Renjun with kisses when he emerged (simultaneously being pushed away)? “Yes, they seem like good friends” indeed. He usually purposely clung onto Renjun’s arm when that happened, having to be forced off with fits of laughter. 

Occasionally, Mark would also tag along, gazing at the pair fondly whilst greeting him with a punch to the arm. Then the pair or trio would be on their way, leaving Donghyuck to either stop by the cafe for a quick lunch (brunch, if he was being honest) or off to occupy a study room for the remainder of the day. Some days he’d bust down the door- Jeno inside not even flinching but moving some of his things to make room- and others he’d enter a room, dump his things and knock his head repeatedly on the wall. And some days, both. 

But of course, none of them rejected practicing at least every other day, as much as they wish that they could. There was one day where Renjun had knocked on the door of his usual practice room three times without an answer, before he’d entered anyway and shaken Donghyuck awake. 

“How long have you been practicing for?” he’d said. It was twenty five past eleven at night. Donghyuck yawned, looking around before realising he was still holding his trumpet. The mouthpiece wasn’t even in, still in the case. 

“I don’t think I even started. Or maybe I just finished.” Jeno had knocked on the room next, poking his head around the door and asking why he was taking a break for so long- that wasn’t like him. Donghyuck shrugged. 

“I guess there’s your answer then.”

Jeno flicked on the light, only to find Donghyuck lying on his bed, again. Surrounded by an open laptop, a well-chewed pencil and a closed textbook. Again. He sighed. 

“One of these days, you’re gonna find yourself studying in my room meanwhile I’ll be expecting you in your room. And then we’ll both be waiting endlessly because we’re stupid.”

“Not if I get bored,” he yawned, ruffling his own hair and pulling his hood over his head. It was the same hoodie that he’d worn after the concert, and clearly he still hadn’t washed it, more to Jeno’s annoyance than anything. 

“-and that happens roughly every twenty minutes with this fucking subject.” Jeno didn’t reply, getting his own materials out on his desk and placing an overpriced waffle he’d bought from the cafe by Donghyuck’s elbow. His eyes lit up, gladly tearing off the tape on the packaging and simultaneously thanking him. 

“I figured you probably haven’t eaten yet. Or if you have then oh well, eat again.”

“My favourite!” Donghyuck held up the slice as if worshipping it before gleefully taking a bite. 

“Ey- over the container at least. No crumbs please.” A muffled reply came from the bed, Jeno now focusing on his screen although it was still fading to life. He stared right back at his monotone reflection. 

Exam season had come and went like a bad stomachache. Waking up feeling just slightly queasy, the dilemma between being dizzy because you haven’t eaten enough but not eating because you’re dizzy, all the good stuff. And then your brain blanking for an hour or two letting your hand run wild and putting nonsense answers for all it cared. But then it would be all over, you’d remember a key detail you forgot to write the moment you step out of the room, but it’s over. Rinse and repeat for a month or so. 

Conveniently, the chance of actually getting that first chair position lived rent-free in Donghyuck’s mind whenever it was blanking. Staring at the clock, thinking he just needed to make it through three more blocks of ten minutes, wondering if Jeno was also thinking the same thing. And also pondering how oh-so smart it had been to make that impromptu promise backstage, although a little voice told him that whether or not it was set in stone or said out loud, it would’ve inevitably happened; that’s just the way the earth spins. 

He stared out the window, at the spring rain. Those cherry blossom trees would be blooming soon, and bloom beautifully at that. 

  
  


_ITS FUCKING OVER_

_WORSE EXPERIENCE OF MY FUCKING LIFE_

Jeno’s phone buzzed behind his laptop: Donghyuck, as he expected. It didn’t take a genius to work it out, having received a spam of other messages in capital letters that morning along the lines of a ‘last exam today’. A wild concept to Jeno, who still had a day to go. 

_Congrats_

_Dnd please_

_Dungeons and dragons?_

_Hell yeah, we havent played it in ages_

_Don’t you have another day tho_

_…_

_Dnd as in do not disturb_

_Oh_

_You still wanna play tho?_

_………...tonight_

Phone silenced, it was a solid half an hour’s worth of work before a radiant face popped its head around the door of the study room, wielding a shopping bag filled with at least two large bags of pretzels, and a bottle of cola. 

“I know we’re technically not allowed to be eating in here but I’m sure you can work out a way to hide these,” Donghyuck shoved the bag in his direction, but Jeno gently pushed it back, waving a hand dismissively. “Aw c’mon. How long have you been here?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Not even for pretzels?” he loudly crinkled one of the bags, opening it and popping a piece in his mouth. He propped the bag on his lap and stretched his legs out so they were resting on a chair opposite Jeno. 

“Maybe later. Save them for game night.”

“You love pretzels though,” Jeno could hear the pout in his voice despite the fact that he was still busy re-typing a paragraph. Slightly on the heart-shattering side, but nonetheless he ignored the urge to drop everything and hug him forever- a feat in itself. Damn, Donghyuck was right about him being fucking annoying. 

“Later, Hyuck.”

“Haven’t heard that nickname from you in a while.” Clearly he hadn’t bothered to process his own words of ‘technically we’re not allowed to eat here’, as crunching and crackling sounds filled whatever Jeno was able to hear out of his left ear. And now he ignored the urge to drop everything and scarf down the other bag. 

“Been a while since you and Mark ever used a nickname for me. What has there been...uh, Jackie, back when I dressed up as Michael Jackson for Halloween. Fullsun, briefly in highschool. Maybe we should bring some of those back.”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh huh,” Jeno nodded, taking in whatever he was saying in through one ear and out through the other. Control, Jeno. Schoolwork first for now. One day left, then you can give him all the undivided attention he deserves. 

Is this how Mark feels?

Another pout. 

“Oh well. I shall leave you to it then. Or do you want me to stay as moral support?”

“That would be much appreciated, yes.”

“Then I’ll stay.” _Yes, preferably forever._

Not even twenty minutes later of Donghyuck staring at his phone, earphones in and occasionally cracking a smile at whatever he was watching- peace- he chucked it carelessly on the table and stuffed five pretzels in his mouth. Crunch crunch. Here we go again. 

If there was one thing that had never changed about Donghyuck, it was that he never let things go very easily unless he truly, truly didn’t care. For example, something small like when he’d caught the person next to him cheating off of his test in middle school. Sure, he’d reported them to the teacher, under pressure from Jeno, but threw the forced apology letter in the trash without so much as a skim read. “It’s only a unit test. Besides, I didn’t revise this time anyway. We probably did shit.” Low behold, they’d scored 65% on that one, compared to his average of 85%. 

“How the hell do you do that?” Jeno had asked one afternoon, looking down at his own 78% one day. Donghyuck had as usual, gotten a 91%. He shrugged. 

“I just study.”

“That can’t be all.”

“But it is.” 

Perhaps another thing that never changed about him was his luck. Jeno should really ask about that too at some point. 

“Do you want first chair particularly badly?” 

“Donghyuck, that is the worst question you could possibly ask me at this time,” Jeno muttered, purposely enunciating every syllable individually. A huff came from beside him, the exhaled air hitting his elbow resting on the table. They were both silent, Jeno still typing away and Donghyuck chewing away, deep in thought. 

If there was one thing that never changed about Jeno, it was that he gave his all to everything he ever dedicated himself to. Whether it was a small school club in which he was one of four members, or throwing a surprise party for Mark’s sixteenth (throwing bright red glitter on him that didn’t wash off even after three days, and also putting chocolates in his locker beforehand...on a sweltering hot day), he tries his best. 

A buried memory was that he hadn’t initially wanted to pick up trumpet in middle school band- he just wanted to have an after school activity with Donghyuck and Mark to fill up the hours. And yet by the end of highschool, he was walking out with a well-respected merit in grade eight trumpet. Donghyuck on the other hand, had only bothered to complete grade five so that he could be in the highschool orchestra with them. 

“So is it a yes or no?”

“It’s a maybe.” Donghyuck clicked his tongue. 

“That’s not an option.”

“It’s a temporary option. Because I say so.” 

Munch, crunch. Tippity tap. Sigh. 

“Look, _Hyuck_ ,” Jeno took his wrist in his hand, receiving a whine at the pretzel only reaching halfway to his mouth, “I would love to have it. I really would. But-”

“-You’ll yield to me?” he asked hopefully, popping the halfway-pretzel in Jeno’s mouth as if to persuade him some more. 

“-But I honestly think- know- we both deserve that title. And if I could make it possible somehow, I would.”

“So then what,” he said flatly. 

“Firstly- I _really want to finish this quickly because now isn’t the best time but anyway_ -” Donghyuck laughed at that but it rapidly dissolved back into a serious expression. Or what he could muster anyway; it was hard to take Jeno seriously when he spoke with a mouthful of salty biscuit. 

“-do you feel the same way?” The moment that question left his lips, the internal voice screamed at him something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you doing, confessing? Lame’. _Lame I may be but at least I ain’t no fucking coward_. _Wait…_

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“So you agree that either way we will be happy for the other?”

“Yes? I thought this was…” Donghyuck made random gestures and noises of confusion to fill in the last word of ‘unsaid’; how ironic. 

“Secondly, I think our only option is to let sir decide.” 

Deep breath. Donghyuck’s face clouded all of a sudden but Jeno could almost see the cogs rotating and creaking in his head. Finally, he said with much skepticism, 

“You do realise sir hates my fucking guts right? Can’t we ask Jungwoo or something?”

“I hate this option as much as you, but Jungwoo’s already told us to let us choose for ourselves. Your second place should balance it out, and it would be terribly unprofessional of him to be biased.” Jeno searched his face some more, taking in the genuinely thoughtful expression and with each passing second, crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t take a hostile turn. 

Oh yes, another thing that never changed about Donghyuck: he was predictably unpredictable. Fucking hell.

“Sure,” he breathed at last, continuing to chew and offering the open bag to Jeno. “Sure, we can do that then. You sure you don’t want some?” Jeno gladly helped himself. 

  
  


It was a long walk to the office and an even longer walk back to the dorms, even though they took the same route both times. Donghyuck didn’t know what else he had expected to happen- by some miracle the conductor would suddenly like him? That he’d be taken seriously for once? Never in a million years, and he knew Jeno knew that. 

And yet, the flowers now revealing themselves were still vibrant with brilliant colours, and birds still chirped their spring songs. Nothing and everything was changing. 

Upon telling the conductor their concluding plan, Donghyuck following his every movement with an unbreaking gaze, he’d merely thought for three seconds and that was it. It was done. 

“Oh really?” Jeno’s jaw had dropped, and a hand had unknowingly made its way to his and was now squeezing it tight, but there was no pain from either of them.

“You start next semester at the first rehearsal then. I’ll update it online. Now good day to you both,” he said curtly. Jeno had hesitated on leaving at first, almost expecting an outburst from beside him, the ticking bomb to explode; but nothing. Just the loosening of grip around his hand and tranquil smile, Donghyuck turning to leave and brushing shoulders with him on the way out. 

“Let’s go. I’m hungry.” It’s done, it’s gone- the thought drilled itself in Donghyuck’s brain and tunneled through to the other side before making another hole. Nasty parasite. 

“Are you sure?” Jeno had said as soon as they got out of the office, now both hands gripping around his wrist. A faint pulse drummed against his inner thumb, inhumanely steady yet strong. “I said I was sure yesterday and I’m no liar. Congratulations, you deserve this.” He’d always thought Donghyuck’s smile was nothing short of a work of art, priceless and intriguing, but whether or not it was genuine now wasn’t worth the risk to find out. Never mind- _coward_. So instead he smiled back, letting his hands fall to his sides and walked on out the building. 

“Thank you. And since I’m no promise-breaker, you’re gonna be right by my side. Right?” He peered at his face, statue-still yet looking like on the verge of bursting into laughter. 

“Absolutely,” Donghyuck said, not even with the turn of the head. “It would be shitty of me to break a promise I initiated anyway.”

As much as he convinced himself that yes, Donghyuck was absolutely fine- elated, perhaps- with the results, Jeno couldn’t help but ask at least once a day until it became almost routine. And the answer was almost always a simple: “I love you.” 

The way it was said varied every time; it could be legitimately serious one time, it could be in between giggles another, it could be aggressive another.

And Jeno’s heart almost always jumped straight after, then it would be dormant again until the next time. He still hadn’t gotten used to those tingles near his chest or the sudden peak awareness that they were indeed tangled up in his bed yet again and this wasn’t some fever dream. 

The end was now in sight, to their delight, but unfortunately that was _still_ no escape from practicing. If they weren’t cramped up in a practice room, they were eating or at this point, taking it upon themselves to tease Mark for his ‘clunky as fuck’ acting skills (that was the one thing that would never change about him). He still stuck around both little parties when he could; at least something good came out of the school giving him a room to himself. 

Right now, was the second last evening before the term officially ended, and they were spending it going over old repertoire in a stinky-as-ever practice room. “The grind never stops,” in Donghyuck’s words, accompanied by a shrug and cheeky smile in response to Jeno’s groan as he was dragged in. 

Going over old repertoire usually meant two things. 

Number one: nostalgia trip, in which somehow their fingers had the muscle memory their brain didn’t, and by the second run through they could start to focus more on expressions and sound than the notes themselves. 

Number two: embarrassing breakdown, in which they might as well be sightreading. And _neither_ of them were too good at sightreading. 

“That’s a G?” Jeno stopped mid-phrase for the fourth time on that page and squinted at the score as if with the sheer power of his eyes he could morph the note into the F he just played instead. Donghyuck pointed and laughed. 

“Yes, idiot. Always has been.” 

“Damn, maybe I’m not so cut out for first chair huh,” he said half-joking; fulfilling today’s quota of “are you sure?” 

Before he could even blink, there was a quick but soft press of lips to the corner of his own and Donghyuck jolting back, wide eyed and hands over his mouth. A gentle numb set in where the afterglow of contact was now imprinting itself; the only proof that it had actually happened. Jeno's ring finger found itself carefully brushing over the sensation, afraid that if he wasn't delicate it would disappear without a trace. His heartbeat drummed away the side of his neck and eyes suddenly drew to Donghyuck's ears- they were dull red. 

“What…” 

Despite him still covering his mouth, Donghyuck gradually started to fold over in silent laughter, rocking in his chair and red ears fading just slightly. And with nothing to lose, Jeno reached over and removed the hand from his face slowly. He swore he could see whole universes in the eyes that stared back at him. Donghyuck’s laughter eventually ended, Jeno’s gaze burning through his entire being, and he matched it. A grin unconsciously built up on his lips.

“I guess that’s one way to make you listen to me? You wou-” he was cut off by hands placed on his shoulder and soon after, lips suddenly moving against his. Softened but slick in a way that was almost predictable. 

Act first, think later. 

Said thinking part came a good half a minute later, although it may as well have been an hour. Jeno honestly wanted it to have been two...or three. Or four. 

“Closeted us made points when we avoided talking about love for the majority of highschool, huh,” he thought out loud, earning a chuckle from Donghyuck. 

“Make it short then. Save us both the cringe.” More chuckles from the both of them. 

“Well, then,” Jeno re-positioned himself and straightened up, “I didn’t think I’d ever get to this point but here we are. I, uh...like you? Romantically? Is that short enough for you?” he laughed harder as Donghyuck fake gagged, accidentally kicking a leg out and knocking over the music stand with a crash, only making it worse. Once they’d stood it up properly again, Jeno bringing their heads closer and placing a kiss on the temple, Donghyuck heaved a sigh. 

“Surprise bitch! I like you too apparently!” he gave some jazz hands for effect, but exactly what effect he was going for was a mystery even to him. Even after confessing many times in the past, none could’ve prepared him enough for this one. Jeno was still spluttering when he gave a brisk two claps and picked up his trumpet from his lap again; it was a miracle neither had fallen to the ground and tragically dented. 

“Perfect, I now pronounce us boyfriends, yada yada, now you were at bar 93 I believe?”

  
  


Jeno didn’t quite expect to be spending his last evening on campus being ordered to throw on ‘at least half decent clothes’ by Donghyuck (to which he protested that his weren’t any better) and dragged down the stairs, all questions ignored except a couple. 

“What the fuck are we doing?”

“Going on a date, my man.”

“Where the fuck…?” Jeno asked, unfazed by the impromptu pet name. He probably would’ve preferred something like ‘babe’ but the glee in Donghyuck’s voice...he would be heartless to say otherwise. 

“I didn’t plan and research all of last night to reveal it all _now,_ ” they exited the building to completely stagnant air. A grey blanket for a sky and practically no one else outside still didn’t seem to bother Donghyuck one bit, as he slowed down his walking pace and put a hand over Jeno’s balled up hand, which immediately opened up upon touch and absent-mindedly locked with his. 

“Today is the last day we will see each other in person for two whole ass months so I just wanted to…” Donghyuck trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken and lost to the air. Jeno didn’t bother finishing it, and let himself be pulled down the familiar pathways, to the bus stop again. No one else was waiting there; it would seem that everyone except Donghyuck could predict the weather. And alas, by the time they passed the third stop, a drizzle started which quickly escalated into a pounding rain. Could you get hail in spring?

“So, about that date,” Jeno only had to take one look at Donghyuck downcast stare out the clouded window to know the answer, but he asked his question anyway, stifled giggle wavering his voice. “Was it outside by any chance?” He swung an arm around his shoulder, kissing him on the earlobe, not minding the stare of the one other passenger on the bus; a grumpy old lady who was already rather irritated by the rain and whose frown could be felt at the back of his head. Jeno kind of liked it. 

“We can go back and watch a movie or something.”

“Fuck the world, I truely do hate it here,” Donghyuck groaned, leaning back on Jeno’s arm and letting that unnecessarily cold air conditioning blast him in the face. “I thought at least the rain wouldn’t be so bad but...back we go, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” Jeno said as they got off to cross the road. Still not another person in sight, and this time there was no one on the bus they got on. “The thought is enough.” They seated and Donghyuck lay a hand on his thigh, purposely poked his finger through a hole in the jeans.

“You know, you’re real fucking annoying right?” Donghyuck remarked.

“How so now?”

“You’re...nice. It’s annoying.”

“To that extent?”

“And more, my man. Far beyond.”

“Okay,” Jeno replied, not quite knowing what else to say in response to that. So instead, he continued, 

“We- You didn’t happen to bring an umbrella, by any chance?”

“Oh shit.”

They’d wasted half an hour, to any onlooker, but a strangely content feeling settled at the bottom of Jeno’s stomach, as they trudged in Donghyuck’s dorm (simply because they were too lazy to walk up one more floor), shook their hair dry and changed clothes. It was a fuzzy feeling, but not fuzzy in a ticklish way- more like fuzzy in a discovering an old stuffed toy from your childhood and proceeding to cuddle with it for a week straight, kind of way. That cosy feeling only elevated once he’d changed into a new set of clothes from his soaking wet ones- bonus that they smelt oh-so Donghyuck-like. 

Donghyuck scanned over him once he’d pulled on the sleeveless top and shorts he’d thrown over, a fond smile growing with every second. They’d gotten lucky that Jaemin (or Mark or Renjun...those three were joined by the some invisible thread these days, Jeno swore) wasn’t in, or he surely would’ve chased them out like wet stray dogs. Neither could blame him. 

“Maybe coming back wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” once finished admiring his boyfriend, he’d gotten out his laptop and for once didn’t straight away open up a word document. Jeno gave one final shake of the head (that dog metaphor suddenly seeming uncomfortably accurate), before settling himself on Donghyuck’s shoulder. If he was going to get a neck cramp, then he may as well get one in the best way possible. 

“Movie? Documentary? Binge watch conspiracy videos again? It’s your call, my man.” Jeno clicked his tongue, partly at the pet name again and partly at the mention of the conspiracy videos again; the last time they’d binged them together was the first week of freshman college, when Donghyuck accidentally clicked on one when doing research.

“Conspiracy then. For old time’s sake.”

“Gotcha. Letting you pick is the least I could do at this point.”

“Actually, you could also let me pick the snacks for today?” Donghyuck gasped exaggeratedly at that, to Jeno’s amusement. 

“I draw the line there, absolutely not. No way in hell. There’s definitely a pack or two of gummy bears in my desk drawer, so…” he shooed Jeno off the bed, and the door banging open so suddenly they might’ve thought it was the wind. But no; just Jaemin. 

“Greetings, Lee and Lee! I have come to collect my gummy bears…” he looked pointedly at Donghyuck before his eyes glanced over one of the colourful packets in Jeno’s clutches and leaping at him, Jeno throwing them to Donghyuck on instinct and bursting into a fit of laughter. 

“Give ‘em back bitch!”

“I need them! For ruined date purposes!” Donghyuck screeched, diving under his fort of pillows.

“What a coincidence! Wait you two are-” Jaemin stopped then, flicking a finger between the two. Neither gave an answer, and his gaze then landed on the pile of wet clothes stuffed by Donghyuck’s open closet, then registering an observation that Jeno’s shirt did look a size too small for him. 

“Uh. Yeah?” Jeno meekly answered, meanwhile Donghyuck at the same time said,

“Congratulations! You have a braincell!” A moment of silence hung in the air before Jaemin fully registered it, suddenly not caring about his snatched gummies and banging the door close again. 

“Renjun owes me and Mark now, yes!” 

They exchanged glances, Donghyuck still gripping on the packets for his life whilst Jeno slowly walked back over to the bed and returned to his original position.

“Well,” he said. “How...interesting. I guess now Jaemin can buy more snacks with that money, huh.” Donghyuck broke into a light giggle at that, leaning his head on top of Jeno’s and kissing his cheek. 

“I guess he can. Good for them.”

“Even Mark bet on us, huh,” Jeno glanced up at Donghyuck’s face- he’d seen it many times at this angle, of course, but it seemed different somehow, this time. Not any more or less beautiful that it was before, simply different. 

“And good for him- I would’ve done the same. Now, which one of these do you wanna watch, my man?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far omg thank you for reading!! 
> 
> Thank you so much to the prompter for this opportunity to write this too! I've been looking for a plot for an orchestra AU for a while now and this was perfect. Also the fact that I myself am an ex-trumpeter...it was fate. I had so much fun writing this, especially since Nohyuck is a pairing I haven't really delved into so much but writing this has really made me love it more. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! Now go read the other 00ff fics too lol


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